Where the Wild Things Are
by Pepper's Ghost
Summary: Wildchild!AU-ception. Alfred never realized that talking to strangers could spawn so many life changes. Ivan never thought hunting in the wilds could be so much fun. Together the duo would carve out a name for themselves and become something special to each other along the way. Eventual RusAme (it takes a while). Visit wildchildthings on tumblr to find out what you're getting here.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Where the Wild Things Are**

**Author:** Pepper's Ghost (atlas-workbench on tumblr)

**Summary:** Wildchild!AU-ception. Alfred never realized that talking to strangers could spawn so many life changes. Ivan never thought hunting in the wilds could be so much fun. Together the duo would carve out a name for themselves and become something special to each other along the way. Eventual RusAme (it takes a while). Visit wildchildthings on tumblr to find out what you're getting in to here.

**Warnings:** Violence, lots of violence, pavlovian training in humans, emotional and psychological manipulation, probably stockholm syndrome, in general super twisted when you really think about it, male-on-male sex, sort of mutual dubcon, kidnapping, substance abuse, arson, murder, collaring, social justice issues, environmental issues, relationship issues, swearing, non-con body modification (not too intense but it is there), bondage, gas lighting, alternate history setting, non-nation AU, and general problematic things that tend to come with the territory.

**Disclaimer:** This is AU-ception – that means it's an AU of an AU folks. I did my best to incorporate all the details of the wildchild-universe into this but I am not the creators of the AU and they didn't even know about this fic until just now. So please take that with a grain of salt. For more info on this universe please refer to wildchildthings at tumblr (not associate with me at all). I also tried to work in a number of details back from when this AU was the USUK "hunter!au"… because there was some great early stuff that you can hardly find anymore thanks to blog deletions and name changes. However, rest assured that this fic is firmly a RusAm porn-athon with plot from the reboot variety…you just have to be patient enough to get through a whole bunch of exposition before you get to "the good stuff." With the deepest most sincere apologies to Shieunni, Zeemo, Nat, and Puni, this humble author presents one version of the Wildchild!AU reality.

X

**Chapter 1: Things Go Horribly Wrong for Alfred**

X

The docks were a flurry of movement. Shouts and sounds cascaded over the area. Livestock braying and the crashing of waves only added to the din. Carts and crates jostled for space among the narrow streets and crowded market squares. It smelled horrible but this did not stop the chaotic action of people coming and going.

Everyone was so drawn in to their own business that they failed to notice two small children darting in and out of the crowds of people, animals, and crates. 

"Mattie! Mattie! Matthew come on," said a little boy with a funny ahoge. "We're gonna miss all of the boats leave." He had stopped at a relatively open area and did a comical shuffle in place while waiting for his companion to catch up.

"Alfred! You know were not supposed to be down here," Matthew said. The white frock beneath his waistcoat was already horribly stained from brushing up against something and he rubbed at it frantically as if it would make the smudges go away. "We could get in lots of trouble."

Alfred ignored Matthew's words and instead grabbed his hand and drug him farther through the dense crush of people.

"Don't worry! I'm the hero so nothing's gonna happen to us."

Matthew shot his best friend a disbelieving look but silenced his protest in favor of trying to keep up. It was not like he could fault Alfred for his enthusiasm – market day by the docks was one of the best to get away from the stifling drudgery at home and truly learn about life. Sometimes nice merchants even gave them things for free. It was worth the risk of breaking their shared governess' rules and enjoying a day outside, unsupervised in an unsavory but interesting place.

Both boys gasped at the sight of the stately tall ships in the harbor being loaded and unloaded with all sorts of commodities from the vast Empire. Trade goods from all over the world could be seen and smelled. Friendly ships from neighboring, lesser empires were under close watch from imperial guards but everyone still held a fairly amicable attitude. The area was kaleidoscope of colors and funny accents that truly made the heart of the Empire look and feel just as powerful as everyone said it was. Truly, no place could ever be like Britain.

In the sea of everything Alfred caught sight of some particularly interesting looking people – he thought they were sailors perhaps – getting on to a ship. He wanted to go talk to them and hear all about their adventures, because sailors would tell anyone the best stories about anything, so he did just that.

Matthew, on the other hand, noticed a particularly inattentive merchant spill some wonderfully delicious hard candies from the Orient. If he brushed them off they would be just as good as new and there was enough for both him and Alfred.

Both set with equal determination to get to their end goal, neither noticed that the other wasn't following. They parted ways easier than the currents bringing ships to and from the Empire. The gap where the pair once stood was swallowed up as each boy darted toward his intended target.

X

Carefully Matthew approached the fallen candy and started collecting it as fast as he could before it got squished or he got noticed.

"Hey! You there!" came an angry cry.

Matthew's head shot up. He saw the careless merchant making toward him with his hands clenched in fists. Not one to stick around for a punishment, Matthew fled the area.

He ran and crawled his was through the masses of people before finding some crates farther down the docks that looked like a good place to hide.

As he caught his breath he examined his catch. 5 little pieces of sugary goodness. He decided to eat one now and tell Alfred that he only managed to get 4 so that they could split the find evenly. It seemed only fair for the problems he would suffer over his ruined shirt and nearly getting his fingers stomped on a few times when retrieving the candy.

He sighed in bliss as the sugary round slowly melted to nothing in his mouth.

He sat in his hiding spot for a long while before he ventured out. Try as he might, he could not find Alfred. He looked high and low but could not find the other in any of their usual haunts. As the day grew late he had no choice but to return home and hope his neighbor had done the same.

X

Alfred crept toward the waiting people as quietly as he could. There were a lot of mean looking guards in this area of the docks and he did not want to get caught and sent back home before he could get his fill of adventure stories. From the number of times Alfred had ever managed to escape his house and enjoy market day, he had come to realize that the scruffiest, meanest, most hardened looking people were usually the sailors that had just come back from being someplace for a long time and therefore had all of the good stories to tell.

This crop of people, with their dull clothes and warn out expressions surely had to have been out on the open waters for a good lifetime! He couldn't wait to hear what they would say to him.

As he got closer there was a bit of a commotion amongst the group. Something had happened and Alfred couldn't tell what but the next thing he knew someone had knocked him into a spot of what he hoped was mud.

"Hey!" Alfred called out. His dismay over his clothes was quickly overshadowed by a mass of guards absolutely descending on Alfred. For a while all Alfred could see was their bright red coats and their stark white breeches as a multitude of hands battered him about. No matter how he twisted and turned he couldn't get away. He even tried to bite one of the many hands to escape but soon after that he felt a sharp pain and then all the colors – the red and white of the uniforms, the blue from the sea and sky, the brown from the mud beneath him – all ran together and everything went black.

X

When the color leached back into the world, Alfred's first conscious thought was realizing he was still covered in partially damp mud. The smell of the sea was everywhere and the wooden wall before him would not stop moving. He felt very heavy and when he tried to move, his vision spun wildly and his head protested a great deal. The pain combined with the rocking back and forth was enough to make Alfred throw up.

He was oblivious to the commotion going on around him. All he cared about was that vomiting hadn't made him feel any better and now his clothes were even more disgusting. Again he tried to prop himself up but when another wave of nausea came crashing down he slumped back into the puddle of sick and watched the world spin.

He wasn't sure how long he stayed motionless but a bucket of salty, ice-cold water helped bring things into sharper relief. After another bucket was tossed over him, a pair of massive, brutish hands yarded him up by his now tattered waistcoat. The hands held him up on his feet but he didn't trust himself to move any farther. His view was dramatically changed when another big hand got a fistful of his hair and yanked his face up. Blearily he tried his best to focus on the very scruffy, very angry man in front of him.

There was a lot of shouting then. He was shaken around a few times just when he lost too much focus on the tirade.

By the end of the whole ordeal Alfred had more or less gotten the idea that he would not be returning to his homeport. That he was now lower then filth and the Empire didn't want him. That he was a disgrace to life itself and therefore he was rightfully a prisoner, on a prison ship, bound for a dumping ground. That there was no hope for escape like the stunt he had pulled at the market. And that God would not have mercy on his soul because he was lower than filth.

Alfred didn't want to be a prisoner on a prison ship bound for a dumping ground but he was not in a fit state to defend himself. He got the sinking feeling that once he could think straight it wouldn't matter what he said. His old life was gone. Surviving the path before him was the only option. He only hoped Matthew would forgive him.

X

Crossing the Atlantic was harrowing.

Outside it stormed all the time. Everyone on the boat was intensely unhappy about the weather and took it out on whomever they saw fit. The crew was mean. The captain was evil. The prisoners were no better. Alfred had found himself cuffed in a line with some of the most hardened criminals the Empire could find and extricate. Men, women, even some kids like Alfred – it didn't matter, everyone was nasty and frightful. Alfred hated the whole experience.

Even with the cards stacked against him, Alfred kept managing to get lucky. Being as small as he was he could easily steal cast off bites of the communal food. While some people got poisoned for eating or killed trying to get a drink of water, Alfred managed to avoid bodily injury by patiently waiting. It was hard when all the food smelled so good but worth it to avoid loss of life or limb.

For the most part he did his best to keep to himself. They were hardly ever free of the chains but when they were he would try his best to stay out of trouble. This tactic usually involved being in smelly nooks and crannies all around the ship. Even though these were the same haunts as the rats on board, the co-habitation actually turned out to be an added bonus. With enough desperation and a quick hand Alfred could catch one to help supplement his meager food intake. The nicest man on board – the cook – would even sometimes let him stuff his catch near the coals so it would roast a bit.

It was hard work surviving on a prison ship but Alfred made due with what he could.

Each day was one small victory.

X

It was a welcome sight to see the land.

It was the "free time" part of the day so most everyone was milling about the deck. The crew had noticed the land. Alfred had noticed the land but most others were simply enjoying the sun and stretching their legs too much to be bothered to notice the subtle change in horizon line.

Despite the hardship Alfred had to deal with to get there, he was excited to see what the new world would bring. Then, after he got to see it all, he could find a way to return and tell Matthew all about it. He hadn't done anything wrong to be on the prison ship, he had no criminal record anywhere, so he knew he could get back to the Empire with little to no problems unlike the other prisoners here.

As the ship approached the coastline it turned sharply away from what may have been the outline of a very tiny community. They skirted the coastline for a bit before coming to the mouth of a large empty harbor.

The whole thing didn't sit right with Alfred. He'd seen enough harbors and port towns from his old life to know that this didn't look right. He expected to see docks like back at home but there were none in sight. He expected the ship to drop anchor or something to wait for a guide boat or tug boat to help them through the passage. What he did not expect was to be grabbed by his shirt collar and the seat of his trousers and chucked overboard.

X

It was a long drop down.

When Alfred hit the water all the air was forced from his lungs but he knew better then to breathe in. He kicked furiously hoping that he was heading toward the surface but the salt stung his eyes so bad that he couldn't really tell which way was up.

Breaking the surface and finding the air was both welcome and freezing.

Alfred gasped trying to steady himself. The boat was mostly blocking the chop from the open ocean so he was able to catch his breath a little bit as he paddled furiously trying to stay afloat.

All of his attention was focused on maintaining momentum and trying to keep his head above the water.

Just when he thought he had the situation under control he got hit with another falling body. A large man slammed into Alfred and instantly started thrashing the moment the pair was submerged again. He was inadvertently kicking and punching Alfred as they struggled beneath the water. Alfred did his best to help his body return to the surface. The shock had made him lose most of the air in his lungs but at least he had his wits about him now which made things a little easier. It wasn't that hard to return to the surface once he detangled himself from the large man who was still thrashing but slowly sinking away.

When Alfred broke the surface again this time he looked up to try and see what was happening on the boat. From his crummy angle he could only hear a faint commotion over the sound of the waves crashing against the boat.

A loud bang startled Alfred. He accidently sucked in a bit of water and spent a moment or two trying to balance coughing up his lungs and paddling to stay afloat. Soon after another body fell into the water just to the left of Alfred. The resulting splash covered him but he quickly bobbed back up again. The volume from the shouting had increased exponentially. Alfred couldn't pick out individual words but the sounds of struggle and gunshots were now unmistakable over the ocean noise.

More people were thrown off of the sides of the boat. It was all so crazy Alfred found himself sinking beneath the waves on several occasions because he had forgotten to paddle.

He tried to remain calm and figure out what to do but his arms and legs were getting tired.

At least he was still afloat. Most of the adults that were pushed off of the boat didn't make it back up to the surface. Alfred could spy a few others who broke out of the water only to be pulled down by their heavy adornments and clothing. (The women in particular suffered this fate the most.) Fewer still were bobbing about like him. One man had even managed to get back over to the boat and cling to its side. His fingers were bleeding from the splinters the wood gave him but he still held on for dear life.

Alfred thought that maybe he should do that too.

He did his best to propel his tired body toward the ship and ignore the downpour of others joining him in the water.

Then there was a huge crack from above him. A body crashed through the railing and plummeted to the water. A good chunk of railing came away with him. Alfred barely had time to avoid getting hit with the falling wood or the body.

Through the salt and sting of his eyes Alfred could spy a sailor peaking over the side to see his handy work. There was another commotion when the sailor noticed several people now clinging to the side of the boat. He shouted down at them but the words were incoherent against the rush of the water and the other noises coming from the deck. The sailor then disappeared and reappeared a few seconds later with a few other men armed with guns.

They took aim and fired upon the survivors clinging to the boat. Many started to scream and soon the din in the water matched the commotion on the deck.

Once the clingers were dead the sailors disappeared back onto the main deck only to be followed by a fresh spew of folks over the side of the boat.

With every person to hit the water Alfred was pushed farther and farther away from the ship. He was too tired to really control his propulsion anymore so he just did his best on trying to stay afloat.

A sharp poke to his back made him cry out in pain. It was a chunk of the fallen railing bobbing on the surface. Without much though he clung to the wood railing that had nearly killed him and tried to block out the screaming. He was so exhausted and his eyes hurt so badly from the salt water.

It was only when the screaming took on a new degree of hysteria did Alfred look up again. He had been pushed a long ways away from the boat to the point where he could see the very edge of the commotion on the deck. He watched in muted horror as more people were pushed overboard and the sailors took their places by the sides shooting at everyone who came too close to the boat.

Alfred watched as the sailors scurried about to get the ship back to the main part of the ocean once the deck was cleared. Occasionally a hiding straggler was pushed overboard to join the others in the water. There were still many people left alive in the water but no one was stupid enough to approach the sides of the ship anymore.

There must have been some kind of current because between Alfred and the boat was a trail of bloody death bobbing in the waves.

Alfred did his best to focus his attention on the boat and not the death around him. The rigging moved up and down. The sails unfurled. Before Alfred could blink, the ship was a good ways away from the dump point.

With his only hope to return home departing without him, Alfred turned to regard the land. He, like some of the others floating in the water, knew making landfall was the only way for him to survive.

Using the broken pieces of wood Alfred adjusted his position for maximum floatation and set his sights for the land. He started paddling his way out of the death and toward hope not knowing if he could make it all the way there before his strength gave out or someone took the floating wreckage from him. Either option lead to certain death.

With nothing but the shoreline on his mind Alfred continued onward.

X

**Author's Note:** Welcome to what will probably be the craziest thing I will ever write. If the amount of death described above squiked you in any way I'd jump ship now and not even bother to wait for the end of the fic (for the porn). Before we get underway with the rest of the story I must tell you that this spinoff of the official wildchild!au world (which can be found at wildchildthings on tumblr) was originally a collab between a random person online, bokunofluffychicken (who's user name has changed several times by now), and myself. I had thought about trying to write something for this universe but always came up short. Naturally I jumped at the chance when I stumbled upon someone in the RusAme tag looking for a collaborator. I was originally brought on for just world building elements and background detail but after 32 pages of filler text on my part and a few vague plot details on theirs…well, they said it was all on me. That was back in 2012. Still, the project was too good to let go and I'd grown long frustrated trying to dredge up original bits of the wildchild!AU (also referred to as the Hunter!AU) to get my fill of this universe. Hopefully the original mods don't mind too terribly much at my spinoff of their wonderful brainpower.

Time period wise this is set at the height of the British Empire during the Age of Discovery (sort of). Global trade between nations was just starting to get rip roaring good (it had always been around but new tech made it easer to access). Things like the sugar hard candy Matthew was so keen on would have been reserved for the highest part of the upper crust of society during this time. (I don't think my one measly sentence can truly convey the happiness of a kid eating a rare sugary treat…he'd probably only ever had one or two in his life.) Also, fitting in with the selected era, dumping grounds and prison ships have been a thing for a long time. Alfred fully thinks that he's going to a penal colony of some sort (like oldschool Australia) except instead of being nicely let off a ship in the middle of nowhere on land that had more things to kill you then you could figure out, you were just pushed overboard – maybe not even close to a shore. No one would ever make it back from these trips so no one would ever know, particularly because the sailors believe they were doing the right thing. Lastly, eating the rats on the ship has been a steadfast last-resort backup for sailors before you had to descend to your leather clothing (or yourselves). Good thing Alfred's a fast learner with a perchance for survival skills. He's going to need it.

As an aside note, this fic is completely done. As in finished. As in I've already written the whole thing. Unfortunately, the posting schedule is going to be a bit on the wonky side because I don't have internet at my house and the library has crummy hours that rarely fit with my work schedule. Fortunately I do a bit of traveling every three weeks and the destination places normally have internet. So at the very least you will get an update every three weeks. Rant and rave all you want…I just can't financially afford to have internet at this point in my life right now.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Ivan Arrives, A Bargain Is Struck, and The Journey Begins**

**Warnings:** See first chapter.

X

Elsewhere in the world but not too far away a young man stood on the deck of a ship nearing the tiny port town of the Safari Zone. His bright red hunter's jacket was crisp and, despite the long voyage, his white breaches were still as pristine as when he got his uniform. Even with the newness of the outfit he stood perfectly comfortable in the clothing.

Clutched in his hand was a small booklet. The leather cover was stamped with the Imperial Russian crest - although between the cut of his hunter clothing and the overall gruff demeanor only a complete uncultured swine couldn't tell that the man was Russian.

Carefully the man brushed his thumb over the small portrait of himself. Then, just beneath the detailed ink drawing, his name, "Ivan Braginski." To complete the full circuit of the page, his thumb settled on the official embossed seal of his homeland.

This simple document – the few sheets of leather bound paper – were his keys to the universe. It proclaimed that he had been granted access to the most remote and heavily protected region left on Earth – and that he could take what he wanted from it with no questions asked.

With the faint smell of land wafting over the air, that universe was only a few short hours away from finally being in his hands. Until then, all he could do was focus on the here and now and mentally ready himself for the upcoming challenge.

Ivan was glad to be getting off of the cramped ship. Being stuck with an ill assortment of lowlifes was trying for anyone. They did not come from strong and powerful Russian stock but were weak sniveling idiots who thought that they would be able to get rich or gain fame quickly by coming to the Safari Zone. They had no higher purpose, unlike Ivan. No. Ivan was here on behalf of the Tsar himself. Every young noble man – anyone who was looking to make their way in the great Russian Empire – was tasked with such a journey. Only by coming to the Safari Zone and proving their worth by making it all the way to the Pacific Ocean and back could an individual be welcomed into high society. If one could stand up against the wilds of the land in the wildest place left on Earth then they would truly be of value to their nation.

Being selected for the journey so young had been quite the honor for Ivan's family. Thanks to his father's training, Ivan knew that he would not only make it to the Pacific Ocean and back, but return with many wanted boons for the Tsar's family and the high court.

A harsh cool breeze ripped across the deck. All around him other passengers shuddered and drew their coats closer to their bodies. They gawked at the looming approach of the land. Yet Ivan remained above it all. He stood tall and proud and unflinching in his red hunter's jacket – a very important gift from his sister. A hunter was nothing without his red jacket and Ivan knew that it would bring him luck beyond what the few other hunters in their red jackets had.

At landfall there was a large crush of scrambling bodies to disembark. Even so, Ivan's position on deck was not challenged. Instead everyone else swarmed around him like water flowing around a rock, eager to leave and find what awaited them in this new land.

Finally, when he deemed it appropriate to get off, Ivan slowly made his way down the gangplank. He would not visually express it but the sights and sounds were fascinating. Getting from the Russian capital across all of the empires in between there and the Atlantic, he had seen his fair share of port towns and trading villages. Yet there was something about the Safari Zone. The air seemed different. The people seemed different too. As Ivan cased the area he could begin to pick out patterns – the telltale signs coming from those who were retreating from the wild lands never to come back, those who were just starting out, and those who possessed a rugged quality unlike any other he'd ever experienced (clearly the local inhabitants, the "Zoners," who, while friendly enough, did not put up with any shit from anyone).

The town was quite small for a town. Back on the continent it would have never been called a town at all but it was the most populated area in the Safari Zone. By pure happenstance this lone outpost had managed to survive the years by barely hanging on. For that reason alone, this was where the people came to start their journey. Over the years it had become the officially sanctioned port of the Safari Zone – its one and only port of call.

It took him all of 10 minutes to walk through the whole place.

As Ivan sized up the situation he could not help but notice a number of his fellow hunters from the boat jamming into the tavern and the inn shouting for a decent bit of food and a roof over their heads for just one more night before they set off.

Fools. The lot of them fools.

Ivan would not fall to temptation. Safari Zone hunting passes were only good for three months – not much time to make your name. And while one could easily cut a trip short and return early if desired. Those that overstayed instantly became slaves of the Safari Zone Authority – an amalgamation of representatives from the various empires who enforced law in the Safari Zone. Their word was law. Even if a hunter managed to stow away on a returning ship they would be shunned from all society back on the continent. It was a necessary precaution. No one should get an unfair advantage over anyone else and more importantly no one should defile the environmental sanctity of the Safari Zone. To do so was social suicide in even the most backwards of societies – the Stewards of the Zone, the British Empire, had enough coercive power to make sure of that.

Instead of following the crowd Ivan started out into the wilderness. One last mediocre night at the inn and some poor-quality hot food would do him little good in the following days. Better to remember his last decent meal at the English High Court then some barely passable trifle. No need to soften up after working so hard to harden himself while on the voyage across the water.

Ivan's walk away from town was fairly pleasant. It was nice to not have to worry about much of anything other then getting to the Pacific Ocean. If he had been at home he would have had to be on guard for anything. There could be another instantaneous uprising he could get caught up in. There could be an assassination attempt – on him or on someone near him. Crazy bombers did not much care who got in the way of their target. Yes, despite the majesty and grandeur of the Russian High Society, much had changed since the violent overthrow of the weak Tsar (a Tsar who had never proved himself in the Zone no less), the revolution times, and then the forceful, brutal reinstatement of the strongest branch of the remaining royal family.

It was nearing dusk when Ivan's musings were cut short by the snap of a twig. He cursed under his breath at how he had let his mind wander. It was an amateur mistake. His guard should not have been down despite the lack of people around him. The Safari Zone was not the single largest killer on the planet for nothing.

Ivan's whole body was tense as he examined his surroundings. Where had the birdcalls gone? Slowly Ivan drew his sword. He had a gun but he did not want to waste his limited number of shots this early on in the trip.

Despite his best efforts to be stealthy the tiny schlink of his sword against the scabbard let forth a flurry of activity. Before Ivan could really register what his assailant was he charged in the direction of the sound. It wasn't always an advantage to have the first attack but the noise did not sound heavy enough for a person. If it was something as simple as a wild animal he might as well catch dinner by making the first move. With a mighty slice in the general direction of the disturbance Ivan vaguely registered a shriek. It was inhuman enough to be an animal so he slashed again. Then the bushed exploded in front of him.

A small boy shot out of the foliage screaming and wailing.

The boy smashed right into Ivan's legs but Ivan was braced for assault and didn't budge an inch. The boy however fell over backwards, whimpering and crying and looking at Ivan with big broken eyes. The sudden unexpected series of events gave Ivan enough pauses to fully register that there was a human in front of him. And that the poor boy was bleeding heavily from Ivan's slashes.

Ivan made a move to lower his sword but the action, however slight, startled the young boy who scramble up again and turned to run back into the bushes. Instead his foot caught on a small, previously hidden warren at the base of the shrub he had originally emerged from. After some frantic tugging the child's foot was dislodged and a rabbit burst forth from the enlarged hole causing the kid to tumble backwards again.

Not one to pass up an opportunity, Ivan slashed at the rabbit. By luck alone he killed the creature. It would be perfect for dinner that night and the hide could be traded for something down the road. With all of the distractions out of the way, Ivan turned back to the fainted child.

The boy's clothes were positively shredded. Ivan could tell that they had once been on the nicer side but even the finest tailor in all the world would not have been able to revive the rags. He wore no shoes. There might have been the fragment of a sock on his left ankle but it could have also been the remains of his pants cuff too. He was bused and scraped up. The slash mark Ivan had given him was on the side of his neck in a near perfect "x". Not being the best judge of neck wounds and arteries, the kid may or may not live to see the next morning. Ivan couldn't tell how on Earth the pattern was achieved with his random slashes but the cuts were deep and bleeding heavily. Of particular note were the purple stains all over his face and hands. Whoever the kid was, he knew where a berry bush was located. That was cause enough for Ivan to keep him alive. For the time being at least.

Even after Ivan had skinned the rabbit and cooked its flesh the boy had not stirred. Not one to take chances with something that could come back to bite him, Ivan tied the boy to a nearby tree. The kid's bleeding from the slashes had mostly stopped but it still wasn't a guarantee that he could pull out of it and live. Ivan tucked in for the night without much more thought on the situation.

X

Ivan woke with the birds. It was a good habit to make and kept one from being killed by anything prowling about in the early dawn.

It was only when he had consumed the last morsels of the rabbit he had saved for the morning did he notice that the boy had his eyes on him. Ivan curse himself again for another oversight. How could he not have noticed that the boy had survived his neck wounds and woken up? He could not afford to get sloppy this early in the game. He had to survive this trial or shame himself, his family, and his Tsar. Failure was unacceptable.

He decided then that before he killed the nuisance and reminder of his failure he would question the boy about what he knew – particularly in regard to the berries.

"Who are you?" Ivan started. The boy just regarded him with wide eyes. Perhaps greeting the other in Russian was not the best idea. When French and German elicited no reaction he tried English.

"Al- " the boy started only to screw up his face in agony and stop. Ivan could see the problem. His mouth movements had agitated the slashes, pulling at the still congealing blood and semi-scabbed over mark. Tears began to roll down the boy's face at his newfound inability to speak. Or maybe at the fact that he was tied up. Or maybe both. Ivan didn't really care. Instead he found it to be a nice turn of events.

It was in that instant that Ivan recalled something his father once told him – people, his father had said, were stupid. They could be told what to do and be lead right to their deaths only because they trusted your word. When you hold all the cards, make them do all the work so you don't have to risk your own neck. Ivan thought it was pretty sound advice and perfect for the inept boy in front of him who had inadvertently provided him with dinner. And who also couldn't pester him by talking.

Maybe some companionship on this trip would not be so bad. At the very least he would have someone expendable to try out certain foods or to bargain with if he met any undesirables out in the Wild.

Now to set the plan in motion.

"You do not have to speak," said Ivan. "I am sorry for hurting you last night but you startled me." The boy had stopped crying at Ivan's gentle tones but still had a pitiful expression.

"I am thinking that it would be beneficial for the both of us if you come with me," Ivan continued. "See, I am on a journey to the Pacific Ocean and it would be lonely to go the whole way myself without some company."

The boy's face took on a more thoughtful expression but Ivan continued on again, "It is the least I can do after accidently giving you that scratch and having you help me catch dinner last night."

With a soft smile Ivan stood and began to approach the boy with his small knife. The boy's eyes widened and he began to squirm frantically against the tree he was tied to. Ivan kept his features schooled and slowly reached out to pat the small child on the head.

"It is alright," Ivan said. The boy had finally stilled but was still gazing terror at the knife. "I am only cutting you free. Don't worry." He couldn't help but let loose a chuckle as the boy practically held his breath as the thick vines were cut. Just before the final slice Ivan stilled and looked directly into the boys eyes. "If you attempt to run I will hunt you down." He waited until the boy nodded his head in understanding before finishing the job.

With nothing to support his weight, the boy practically crumpled into Ivan.

"None of that now," Ivan said. "You have to be strong or I will leave you behind." That was all it took for the kid to nod obediently and begin to tail him through the underbrush.

As they walked along Ivan couldn't help but notice that the kid was being quiet for an ungraceful person. That was probably the reason why he managed to get the drop on Ivan in the first place.

The going was rather slow as the terrain became more steep and rugged. Ivan only had to backhand the boy once when he had tripped and tugged on Ivan's coat. Sure it would take a bit longer now for the kid's scar to heal up thanks to Ivan's retaliation but no one messed with the coat his sister made. At least the two of them had a better understanding of each other now.

By lunch the kid had already proven his worth by finding a berry bush for them to snack on. This usefulness was proving to be less burdensome then Ivan had anticipated. Still, it was annoying to call his companion "the kid" or "the boy" or "idiot" in his head. To mark a milestone in their relationship he dubbed his new shadow "Al" – which was probably the beginning of his name that he had tried to say the night before.

Still full from the berries at lunch Ivan didn't bother to hunt for dinner that night. It was more worth it to him to press on and see the sights on the way to the Pacific then stop and dally around trying to eat. Al made some whining noises at the unspoken decision but was quickly silenced by a glare from Ivan.

That night as Ivan unrolled his sleeping mat Al very cautiously approached Ivan as if to share the space with him. It frustrated Ivan that Al did no know his place in their traveling arrangement. Every time Al got close, Ivan would bat him away. After many attempts Al finally got too exhausted to keep trying to access the warmth Ivan had in his sleeping mat and passed out just outside of Ivan's reach. Not long after Ivan also fell asleep but not after resolving to further solidify the relationship dynamic his father had talked about.

Again having a traveling companion proved its worth the next day when the duo ran into a bobcat when crossing over a small mountain range. They had just turned a corner when it came out of nowhere. Thinking quickly Ivan all but threw Al at the animal as he drew his pistol before shooting the beast dead. He had missed Al by a few centimeters and the other was sporting an interesting bite mark on his forearm but the duo had emerged victorious.

Al made no attempt to try and snuggle up to him that when they went to bed that night.

Before long they began to work as a pretty good team. Between Al's clumsiness and Ivan purposely risking Al's neck over his own, Al was quickly becoming rather adept at surviving. Ivan too had grown used to the Wilds – knowing the ever-changing surroundings and the animals that came with it. He used his skill and cunning and his father's advice to propel himself through the vast lands.

He had no contact with anyone but Al and that was ok.

Their first true rough patch came when Al's voice came back. Ivan was making one-sided small talk at the campfire as he roasted the deer he'd had Al flush out from what Ivan had thought was a poisonous plant but was actually just a really thorny plant.

"You are fine, Al," said Ivan. "Do not give me that puppy dog look. We needed to get dinner and you were just the right size for the job."

Al just licked his lips as he worked to remove the bush's pokey bits out of his skin. It wasn't causing him to bleed much but it still hurt pretty bad. When he was finally done he turned to give Ivan his full attention.

"'M Alfred," he said. The voice was rusty with disuse but even in its smallness, the statement hung heavy in the air.

Ivan's simple chatter stopped dead. The pair regarded each other – Ivan with wide eyes filled with shock at the other talking and Alfred's with a growing dread that he had done something horribly wrong. Eventually Ivan's face returned to neutral and he slowly got up. Alfred tensed. He'd learned by now that running was never the good option when it came to Ivan. Instead he swallowed and tried to hide his fear as Ivan spent the next few minutes rummaging around in his pack. Alfred was puzzled when Ivan came back with only one serving plate and set of utensils. Ivan merely smiled at Alfred when the other realized that he wasn't going to get any dinner that night despite the over abundance of the delicious smelling deer. Alfred whined in the back of his throat much the way that he normally did to communicate his displeasure of something. Ivan's grin only became more pronounced as Alfred made no move to reach of the food or verbally ague again. Alfred did nothing more that night than curl into himself as he watched Ivan eat in peace.

When Ivan had finished up he turned back to the rest of the deer and made preparations to smoke the leftover meat. It wouldn't due to waste such a prolific amount of food.

As dusk turned into night and Ivan set about going to bed, he finally turned to regard Alfred who had not moved since his near-fatal error.

Even as Ivan made his approach Alfred shrunk further down into himself. Ivan could see the tear tracts running down Alfred's face – he was unsure if it was due to the fear of Ivan retaliating or the pain of knowing that he was not allowed to talk that caused them but both options made Ivan happy.

"Have we learned our lesson?" said Ivan. Alfred only nodded. "Alfred look at me – have you learned?" Only slowly did Alfred turn his face toward Ivan and draw his eyes up. Just as quickly he looked away and nodded. Which such a positive response Ivan sat down right next to Alfred. He could tell that Alfred was doing his best to not flinch away.

Alfred's only reaction came when Ivan thrust a piece of the recently made jerky into Alfred's face. He made a quizzical noise and looked at Ivan. Fed up with Alfred's timidness, Ivan forced the piece of jerky into Alfred's mouth. If the boy didn't get sick by morning then the meat was done. If he did they would have to hold over for a bit longer when the new day arrived to finish the meat. Alfred though, was oblivious to the inner workings of curing meat and gobbled down the piece with gusto even going so far as to lick his lips from where some of the smoky goodness had stuck when his lips were forced open.

Alfred didn't get sick that night so by morning the duo packed up and were moving on again. Not once did Alfred try to talk and the only true recollection of the conversation was that Ivan began calling Alfred "Alfred" instead of just "Al".

X

It took Ivan two full weeks to get out of the mountains and forests and reach the prairies. He was not happy with his pace. They were going too slow – and it wasn't even Alfred's fault either. But now that the difficult terrain was at their backs they could make quick time across the flatlands. Ivan's father had often told tales of how the only reason he had made the deadline on the Safari Zone hunting pass was because of the flatlands. All you had to do was follow the sun and it was a straight shot to the coast. Day or night you could tell where you were without getting lost or staggering about.

Shockingly Alfred was able to keep up with Ivan's increased pace even as the tall grasses thrashed his body. Ivan was lucky enough to have his coat and pants still in good condition and despite the heat kept them on. Alfred on the other hand had nothing but the even more raggedy rags from before. It wasn't Ivan's place to clothe the other so no effort was made to fix the situation. Yet Alfred never complained even as he licked his wounds at the end of each day when they finally stopped long after sundown and the moon had risen.

On these long days they ate the jerky they had accumulated during their trek. Ivan knew that sometime during these hot months there would be a great swarm of bugs to eat but until then they had to deal with the reserves and the occasional prairie dog they managed to catch on the way. There was no stopping for food, just pressing on and eating on the go.

When they were wading through the sea of grass one afternoon Ivan had the chance to marvel at how Alfred practically ran laps around him – checking out this or that and sometimes bringing things back to Ivan.

On one memorable occasion five days out from when they first hit the prairies Alfred came back with a prairie dog. It had clearly put up a bit of a fight if Alfred's face was anything to go by and the poor thing probably died horribly if the way Alfred had wrung its neck was any indication but Ivan still gave lavish praise for his companion. The boy was learning quickly though Ivan's guidance and was proving to be a nice asset to Ivan's expedition. It wasn't that Ivan needed this extra assistance – without Alfred he wouldn't even have needed the added food but as long as he managed to aid the trip then Ivan wouldn't complain.

That night he gave Alfred more food then he normally did. It was only fair to reward the hunter for the meal.

Every day from that point on Alfred would trail around Ivan looking for food. He was always within earshot and would come when Ivan called for him but usually Ivan just let Alfred prowl around in one big moving circle around him. If he caught something, all the better. If not, Alfred would have a good sulk that night and Ivan would console him by spinning tales of the stars in the inky blackness.

Normally Ivan was not one to indulge in these childish fantasies but Alfred would always whine for more stories. It was nice that, despite some minor differences, the sky remained the same as it was back home. It served as Ivan's constant reminder to why he was on this trek and why he had to be successful.

X

Ivan could see the tree line and distant mountain peaks when the swarm hit.

Giant massive bugs came at them like a deluge. Ivan had just enough time to all but drag Alfred to a makeshift shelter between a pathetic tree and a small boulder before they were inundated. As the thousands of little bodies pelted his own protective clothing he could hear Alfred crying.

When the insanity had finally died down Alfred was a bloody mess and sobbing hysterically from being clipped by wings and legs. It had been a long time since Ivan had seen Alfred behave so pathetically.

Ivan almost left him behind right there but thought against it at the last moment. Alfred would get over it. He was more of a mess because of the fright the bugs caused then the pain (or at least that's how Ivan decided to justify not killing Alfred on the spot or leaving him).

It was sunset now and normally they would have continued walking longer than this but stopping early just this one time would not be so bad. It would also give Ivan time to gather as much of the bugs up that he could carry so they could eat like kings for the next few days.

By the time Alfred had stopped being a sniveling mess Ivan had already amassed an enormous mound of bugs and was working on weaving a basket of grasses for Alfred to have a pack of his own to carry. As tempting as it was to just load up his own pack and have Alfred carry it, the boy was still too hazard prone and would probably lose it – not a fatal setback but an inconvenient one.

As curious as ever Alfred watched Ivan's skilled hands flick the strands back and forth as they were slowly woven together. Still shaky from his ordeal with the bugs, Alfred attempted to mimic Ivan's movements and make his own basket but Alfred's bloody, dirty hands proved to be no good at weaving so Ivan just had him gather up more bugs. Every so often Alfred would find a semi-live one in the mass and scream but it was more funny to Ivan than anything else at the moment so he let it slide.

Once Ivan's baskets were done, they ate. They ate until they were so full they couldn't eat anymore. While the bugs didn't have the best taste in the universe, they still were edible.

In the looming shadows of the mountains the pair had few cares in the world at that moment.

X

It took all of Ivan's skill to navigate them through the intense mountains. He lost count of the number of times he wound up yelling at Alfred for doing something stupid only to forgive Alfred shortly after for doing something equally stupid like taking on a bear single handedly or saving Ivan from a snake.

Objectively Ivan could tell that all of this intense work was doing wonders for Alfred's physique. Despite the added strain in diet and prolific amounts of exercise, Alfred had shot up a good few inches. When they first met he was only up to Ivan's waist, now he was almost mid-chest and had skin that seemed to be impervious to the sun unlike Ivan's own. Ivan hadn't cared how much Alfred had laughed at him when he first dawned a crudely constructed grass hat but it was better then turning into a lobster even in the crisper mountain air.

X

Once they were over the mountains it was smooth sailing. The food was plentiful and the walk was much more agreeable. When they finally arrived to the Pacific Ocean both Ivan and Alfred were in awe. It seemed nothing like the Atlantic they had come from even if the other was an ocean too.

Alfred was the first one to break the spell. He grabbed Ivan by the hand and practically dragged him to the water's edge. With each lapping wave Alfred dared to get closer but never close enough to get wet. Ivan watched the display but soon tired of seeing Alfred scamper along the water's edge. Ivan snatched him up when he came near enough and threw Alfred in. Alfred squealed when he hit the freezing waters but quickly began laughing and splashing about in the shallows.

When Alfred got pleasantly distracted by a crab, Ivan moved the last little bit of the way to the water. He crouched down and let the water run through his fingers. While he had never doubted that he would make it to the Pacific Ocean, actually being there was quite mind-boggling. Between the cold water, the faint breeze, the warm sun, and Alfred babbling a wordless tune that sounded vaguely reminiscent of something Ivan remembered from the English shores so long ago at the jumping off point of his journey, Ivan had a hard time telling himself that this moment was real.

Still…now that they were here it was time to get down to business.

Proof that he had been to the Pacific Ocean came in a few ways. First he had to find an odd shell that looked like a hat. They were fairly small and were somewhat plentiful in Japan but did not appear anywhere other than these two places. The Japanese guarded theirs with a fierce pride and therefore not many left the island. They made for wonderful accentuating ornaments in furniture though so the shells were a popular commodity – either taken by force or bootlegged out of the country. Ivan had seen drawings of the shells and it wasn't hard to find an abundance of them.

On his trek here he had already found much of the other plants and animals that served as checkpoints of sorts for his journey. Besides the shells there were only three other things to find. The pelt of a sea otter, an odd white flower with three petals, and some wild hops. Everything else he brought back was a bonus.

That night as he and Alfred bedded down in the sand, Ivan thought about all of the goods that had brought fame and fortune in the courts back home. He thought of the odd and the rare things he could pack back to make the Tsar and his family proud.

The next day he had Alfred collect as many of the funny hat shells that he could stuff into the woven pack Ivan had made that, despite it all, had survived the mountain crossing. This left Ivan plenty of time to think about accomplishing his other tasks. In his contemplations he got lucky and found a hoard of the otters. They seemed to have no fear of him so he again rounded up Alfred and they managed to bag nearly a dozen of them.

Alfred found the hops.

Ivan had drawn him a picture in the sand of the plant and when Ivan was dealing with the otter pelts Alfred had presented him with a handful of buds. The bush or vine, Ivan really couldn't tell, was not at all like what the book back in court described it to be but the little buds matched everything he remembered so it must've been it.

Laden with gear they set off for the return trip that very afternoon. Ivan made sure to have the essentials in his pack. He also jammed all of the extras into Alfred's now reinforced bag with the firm instructions not to lose it or drop it.

Before either of them knew it they were nearing the mountains. The trip was much more expedient now that they knew the way. Alfred in particular was very sharp at keeping them on course. Ivan figured it was because Alfred was closer to the ground or something.

That being said, Alfred's odd crouches were becoming more twisted because he had sprouted again and was now just above mid-chest in height to Ivan – it was probably all the fresh air doing him good. Even so, there was no denying that Alfred had managed to hone his instincts to a razors edge and was now just as good at reading the landscape if not better then Ivan himself.

X

**Author's Notes:** Chibi wildchild is not necessarily a badass wildchild…yet…we've still got to get to that point. There's still quite a bit of the Alfred we all know and love that needs to be more stripped down first. While the original wildchild!au doesn't much delve in to the specifics of the "how did we get here" side of things, coming up with a beginning is sometimes a lot easier when you know the end destination. You may have noticed that the touch point era I gave you for the British Empire doesn't quite match up with the eras for the Russian Empire and the Japanese Empire – this is part of the AU fun, just blame the ripple effects of alternate history. If you want more nation back-story feel free to message me on tumblr. That being said, the Safari Zone (named by the canon AU and not my choice because all I can ever think of is Pokémon whenever I write it) was created by the first ever world summit in this AU-ception universe. The English, being one of the most powerful groups at the table and certainly with the most experience in both environmental policy (big social uprising after all the trees got cut down and people found the cause of the killer fogs with the help of Wales and Scotland) and of conquering of new lands (with the help of Ireland) was the one to propose the solution. The Safari Zone would cover the entirety of the continent from the edge of Spain's holdings in the crushed Aztec Empire up to the impenetrable icy regions where the remaining native populations of the Safari Zone still eked out a survival. This Safari Zone would not be in the hands of any one nation but rather a council would meet every 5 years to evaluate the status of the land.

The "Zoners" Ivan first meets when he gets off the boat are considered British citizens although many of them hail from outside the British Empire. They're not quite American or Canadian but they do have that rough and tumble, unfettered attitude that is so characteristic of any people in a place that's a bit more off the grid then normal.

Lastly, most hunters don't need to go all the way to the Pacific Ocean and back unlike Russians so the 3-month pass is standard practice…many don't even stay the whole of the 3 months. You can get an extension (more info in future chapters) that logically and physically will enable you to get there and back based on several documented cases of people walking coast-to-coast and back in just under 5 months. If you pool native sources and the relay runners of South America and compare distances and terrain style, the time frame is actually quite doable (a bit murderous for this day and age but doable).


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Ivan Leaves and Comes Back to a Surprise**

**Warnings: **See Chapter 1.

X

It was an unseasonably cool day when Ivan caught his first whiff of the salty Atlantic Ocean air. By Ivan's count they were nearing the port area just under four and a half months to the day. It was all ok though. Because of the volume of goods he had returned with, it granted him another two-month extension on his hunting tag. As long as he managed to hang on to everything and board the ship successfully, he was in the clear.

That night Ivan knew would be his last in the Safari Zone. Alfred had served him well but it was time to say goodbye. There was no place in court for a wild child like him and Ivan wasn't one to buck the system to try and make it work.

During dinner Ivan slipped Alfred some sleeping drought that he had brought with him all those months ago on the off chance he needed to slip away from unsavory company.

In the dead of night he grabbed the extra basket and slipped into the darkness to the port. Alfred was none the wiser as he slept on, dead to the world around him.

X

When he went to check in with the Safari Zone Authorities they had welcomed him with open arms. He hated the shock in their faces but grinned and bared it as they officially extended his pass (for a small under the table fee) and got him on the nearest available ship – a smaller vessel with two other successful hunters – one from France and one from Japan, who knew to keep their distance based on his intimidating aura and the amount of goods he had managed to keep hold of seemingly on his own.

As the boat pulled out of the harbor at first light he thought of Alfred who would mostly likely just now be trying to shake off the effects of being drugged. Even then he felt no remorse. It had been a good run. He had trained the boy well. Alfred would survive in the woods on his own just fine and that was the greatest gift that Ivan could ever give him.

X

As soon as Ivan got off the boat he got swarmed. Sure he knew that there was usually a big welcoming committee when one returned from the Safari Zone but he had no idea how loud and obnoxious and crazy they were. The three hunters were ushered to the British Empire's royal palace and treated like kings. Emissaries arrived from each of their countries to congratulate them and make travel arrangements to make it safely back home.

Ivan was really careful that no one managed to steal anything from him. It didn't matter how small an item - all of it must go to the Tsar. It was not his place to do anything else with the goods unlike the Frenchman who had full license to do with his stuff what he pleased. Already Ivan had crushed someone's fingers when they got a little too slippery near his hoard. Alfred's hands would not have crushed so easily, but then again, Alfred would not have pulled the stunt like this buffoon.

He almost caused an international incident when the buffoon turned out to be some lesser noble but still a noble of the English court. Fortunately, both the Japanese and French hunter backed him up on the incident. Honestly, one couldn't argue with a man who had spent the last five months wrestling bears over deer for food and dodging snakebites only to kill them with his bare hands or whatever nonsense the periodicals managed to cook up. No one really bothered him after that.

His escort to the Russian Palace was something out of a dream. Everything was the height of luxury, all expenses paid.

With every town he stopped in people were all a twitter at the handsome young man who had done so well. Ivan knew that he was part of an elaborate game of one-upsmanship between the royals – he was little better then a fancy finery to show off for the benefit of the Russian Empire.

By the time they reached the edge of the Ottoman Empire Ivan had had enough. He asked to take more expedient routes to his homeland so that he did not have to make the Tsar wait any longer. He tried to be nice about it but Ivan didn't think that worked when the attendant turned positively green and said he'd look into it.

The trip sped up a lot more after that.

X

The winter court season was a whirlwind for Ivan. His spoils had thrust him into the limelight. Never before had any one individual brought back so many goods. The women practically hung off of him. The men wanted to be him so bad they listened to any old tale that he spun – regardless of how true or false the story was. The older men who had made the journey and survived welcomed him into the fold like a prodigal son. The Tsar and his family were suddenly the greatest of friends. Academics flocked to him trying to get every detail they could out of his journey. These sorts were odd to Ivan because they did not care for his daring escapes or his hunts but wanted to know about the small details like how the water flowed and what kind of fish and berries there were.

Incidentally Ivan wound up helping them a lot more than any other hunter in previous history had ever had. As it turned out, ever since he gave Alfred the basket when they left the prairie, Alfred had been collecting…things…feathers, odd rocks, leaves of every color and shape and size, partially crushed bugs with the most beautiful wings anyone had ever seen, bits of hide from things that they had eaten but not saved, claws, teeth, berries, even a small chunk of gold. It didn't matter to the academics how much or how little he knew about these things. He told them that some of them accidently made their way in and that others looked interesting enough that he had picked one up to study by the firelight and neglected to get rid of it.

Science made a huge leap forward that winter as people from all over the civilized world struggled though the Russian winter to come and study at the Tsar's palace. It was like a cultural renaissance for the nation and Ivan was the hero of the story. Never had a man come from so little to mean so much to the collective. It was quite overwhelming.

X

As the spring thaw approached the Tsar drew Ivan aside into his private chambers one day. Ivan had done well for himself and for the nation. As much as the Tsar wanted to keep Ivan around to revel in his glories as he had every right to for having completed the true test of manhood so well, what he, the Great and Powerful Tsar, and the nation wanted the most was for Ivan to go back and return with more curiosities to heighten the glory of their empire.

To venture to the Safari Zone twice - such a thing was an honor and a privilege beyond all reasonable doubt. Ivan was quick to accept the proposal.

As soon as he could he fled from court life with his specially issued Safari Zone pass that gave him priority clearance at all ports of call and no questions asked by the Safari Zone Authority. He still had a time limit though – if he was not back by late summer he would not be able to enter the country thanks to the winter – a general ban had been declared by the nation when a party of the top academics had perished trying to get to the Russian Court in November to study what Ivan had brought back.

This time Ivan was given a more specialized list of things to bring back with him. Nearly all of the items he recognized from some part of the journey and the ones he didn't were things found on the coast which made sense considering the amount of time he had actually spent in the area. He studied the images and descriptions for the entire journey to the Safari Zone.

It was nice to be away from people again (even if he was jammed onto a boat with many other lesser men). At least in this setting no one knew who he was. Only a few of the novice Russian men gave him a second glance for even if they did not know him by face – he gave his name out to no one – any Russian would recognize the signature mark of the black furred hat worn exclusively by those who had made it there and back again.

Ivan's solitude also gave him pause to think of Alfred. Idly he wondered if the boy had made it though the winter.

X

Making landfall was just like how Ivan remembered. Instead of feeling jittery about starting on the next big adventure, Ivan was confident that he could do it again because he had already done it. His skills were still sharp – one of the qualifications of being in the "congratulations you made it back" group was retaining the skills honed by hunting on the Tsar's grounds at his request and staging mini-competitions.

Again Ivan set off scoffing at those who flocked to the inn and those that tried to get on to returning ships.

Nothing much had changed at all. The trees were a tiny bit bigger and the buildings were even more beaten down but that was it. Ivan even recognized a few of the local people he had seen before although they paid no attention to another idiot in red trying to make their fortune.

X

Ivan wasn't sure how far he had gone into the wild lands when he decide that he should try to see if Alfred made it. He'd left the boy to the southwest of the town near a creek. If Alfred retained even a shred of what Ivan taught him he would probably still be in the area where there were plenty of resources for food, water, and shelter nearby.

Idly Ivan poked around in the area. He tracked a few creatures and sought to get over the novelty of seeing everything again.

As dusk began to fall Ivan could swear he could hear voices on the breeze. Never a good sign when bedding down, he carefully picked his way though the semi-darkness toward the voices. Eventually Ivan could spy a fire with a group of people around it. They were laughing and singing and someone was playing some kind of guitar.

Then Ivan heard it.

It was _his_ laughter. Clear and unmistakable. Alfred was in the group.

Determination settling in, Ivan crept even closer before he was just on the edge of the clearing. He could not believe what he saw.

There was Alfred – surrounded by a group of 8 other men. They were all talking and laughing.

Alfred was talking. _His Alfred_ was _talking_. And wearing pants and shoes.

Had all of his effort gone to waste? Had Alfred learned nothing of how to be alone and survive? Had he forgotten of trusting no one but Ivan?

Without much more of a rational thought Ivan drew his sword. The merry makers did not even see him as he loomed out of the shadows. With one quick motion he stabbed the man closest to him clean though at the waist and wrenched his sword upward. The man keeled forward dead his last words garbled and bloody. Alfred and the others were so stunned that Ivan managed to partially behead someone else before anyone reacted.

"Ivan?!" Alfred said above the yells of the others who had just seen their friends slain.

"This is Ivan? He is so not awesome! You don't just kill people in the dead of night! Not even in the Safari Zone," shouted one.

"Yeah," said another. "You're going to pay!"

The second man lunged forward as the others held back forming a human wall between Ivan and Alfred. It only served to make Ivan more infuriated at the whole thing.

Channeling his rage Ivan defeated and killed his attacker in a few simple moves.

When another from the wall came forth to fight and again Ivan got the upper hand, the man who had called him not awesome yelled for Alfred to run. After hesitating only a moment Alfred sprinted into the darkness. This only made Ivan more upset at the whole situation. If Alfred had just come quietly Ivan would not have had to kill the remaining men but now he had no choice.

The former merry band of men all charged him at once. It was difficult fending off so many blows but Ivan was skilled and the others were either tired, lazy, or both. One by one they died on his blade. Once the final blow was struck Ivan darted into the woods to track Alfred down.

It was pathetically easy to trace Alfred's trail. It seemed that Alfred, in Ivan's time away, had forgotten everything and was making so many basic mistakes that Ivan barely had to use any skill to follow Alfred's reckless path.

With the moon at its zenith above their heads Ivan final caught up with Alfred. The younger boy – now looking much more like a teenager then he had any right to be – was slumped exhausted over a rock by the stream Ivan had left him at not six months earlier. Alfred didn't even register Ivan's presence until Ivan had a hand full of Alfred's hair and was holding his head under water. As Ivan pulled up and Alfred sputtered for breath, Alfred began to whimper and cry. He struggled and tried to get Ivan to let go of his hair but Ivan just dunked him under the water again. The second time Ivan let Alfred up for air Alfred was no longer struggling or trying to break free. He just sat there on his hands and knees staring at Ivan's boots shaking slightly.

Carefully Ivan rearranged their bodies so that he could see Alfred better but he still made it so that the other would not try and run away again.

"Alfred," Ivan said. The other man flinched so hard that for a brief moment Ivan thought that he was going to try and make another break for it. When no further movement came Ivan begin again. "After this conversation is over we will go back to normal. It will be just like old times when we traveled across the land to the Pacific Ocean."

Alfred refused to meet Ivan's burning gaze.

"Alfred, tell me. Who were those men?"

"My friends," said Alfred. His voice was very soft but the words carried far in the quiet night.

"No they weren't Alfred," Ivan said. Alfred looked like he was about to protest so Ivan gave him a little shake. "They were using you Alfred. They were making you soft so that when your usefulness to them ran out they could kill you easier."

"No!" shouted Alfred. He was looking Ivan right in the eyes now. Ivan could see the pain that his words brought. This child knew nothing of the silver tongues in court and his ignorance would be Ivan's gain.

"Yes Alfred," said Ivan. "How long did you stay with them?"

"Since it got cold," Alfred said. He looked confused as to why this question was asked.

"They have been pampering you Alfred," said Ivan. "Did they feed you?" Alfred nodded. "And give you some place to sleep?" Again Alfred nodded. "And keep you warm." Despite his confusion Alfred kept nodding.

"Then they were using you!" said Ivan. "They used their kindness to make you weak in the same way we trapped rabbits with bait or fish with worms on hooks."

"But – "

"No buts Alfred," Ivan said. "I'm glad I got here when I did." Ivan roughly pulled Alfred to his chest. They were in almost the exact same position as when they had hidden from the swarm of bugs last season. Alfred went ridged in the embrace and then slowly returned it. "I am glad I returned because any day now they could have killed you easily. Look how simple it was for me to catch up with you. They wanted to leave you to die." As Ivan spoke Alfred's grip on him tightened and by the end of it Alfred was clearly crying.

Ivan did his best to comfort the other. When Alfred had finally settled a little bit and Ivan was just about to pull away, Alfred spoke again.

"Why did you leave?" said Alfred. His voice was raw from the screaming and the crying. He looked about ready to pass out but Ivan couldn't help but answer the exhausted kid.

"I had to fulfill my roll and perform my duty," said Ivan softly. Alfred just nodded into Ivan's chest, let out a mighty sigh, and fell asleep – completely spent from the trying few hours he had just been though.

Ivan on the other hand was not tired at all. When Alfred awoke they needed to not be here – in this place where Ivan allowed Alfred to talk so that Ivan could understand the true depth of how far Alfred had backslid. This time there would be no going back. Ivan would instruct Alfred in the ways of the hunt and he would not go easy on him this time. He would find a way to make sure that Alfred never wanted to embrace the company of others again.

With great resolve Ivan gathered the sleeping boy up in his arms and began walking though the woods using the light of the falling moon to guide him.

X

When Alfred awoke far from where the altercation happened last night and in unfamiliar territory, Ivan was there waiting.

"Come on Alfred," said Ivan as he cleaned up one of his packable dishes. "We've got to get moving if we want to get to the Pacific Ocean and you've slept much of the morning away." The truth of the situation was that Ivan had not really eaten breakfast. He had enjoyed a large snack when he caught a raccoon that night even with Alfred asleep in his arms. Still, to remind Alfred of how soft he had become, Ivan made a show of already being done with breakfast. It was the first in many steps to get Alfred back to fighting fit and the worthy companion Ivan knew he was.

Alfred's stomach growled and Alfred rubbed it absentmindedly while eyeing Ivan's plate. Ivan laughed a bit but made no offer to give Alfred anything to eat.

"Let's get going," said Ivan.

"Bu-" The beginnings of what was clearly a word was quickly smothered into a whine and a longing gaze at Ivan's plate. This was good. Alfred was already falling back into routine. Still Ivan had to pound in the message.

"Did you say something, Alfred?" said Ivan. He slathered the malice on extra thick in his tone despite the smile on his face. Alfred determinedly shook his head and looked at his feet (which he just now noticed were missing his shoes). About to inspect the peculiarity Alfred was drawn back into the conversation by Ivan forcing his chin up to ensure Alfred looked at him in the eyes. Alfred gulped and whined a bit more and when Ivan was done searching his face he released his grip. Alfred gave a sigh of relief that he did not receive any form of retaliation for his almost slip up. He wasn't really sure what the big deal with talking was. Heck, when he was with his friends from before he even learned some cool new languages like Russian for his Ivan and German and some kind of Scanda-whovie-what-sits or something. Maybe it was just his voice that was the problem. Ivan's voice was like a soft babbling stream that blended in with the wind so that you only noticed it if you knew what to listen for and animals obviously didn't know what to listen for. That made a lot of sense to Alfred.

What didn't make any sense to Alfred was getting slapped upside the head by Ivan after only a few minutes of walking. Alfred whined again as he began to rub at the knot that was sure to be forming on his head. He glanced up at Ivan with a hurt expression.

"That is for not paying attention, Alfred," said Ivan. "What if there had been a snake in front of you? Then you would get bitten and die. Or what if it was a bear? Then you would get mauled and die. See – those friends of yours were not your friends. They did nothing to prepare you for life."

At Ivan's words Alfred hunched a little into himself and began to try and pay more attention to his surroundings. It wasn't long before he was entirely captivated by all that was around him. Everything was so different from where he and those others had stayed during the winter. All of the flowers were starting to bloom and there was a plethora of life all around them. Then out of the corner of his eye he saw some movement. Head snapping to attention Alfred tried to track the movement but quickly lost it in the dense underbrush.

"See Alfred," said Ivan suddenly. The words were so quiet but so close that Alfred nearly jumped out of his skin. Ivan had whispered it in his ear but Alfred had no knowledge of Ivan getting that close to him. "This is what you were meant to do. You saw those animals and tracked them. This is who you are. Not some lazy lap dog who takes the food he is given."

The duo walked in silence after that. Alfred was so fixated on relearning everything around them and trying to tack everything so that he could get pats on the head that he completely missed that they walked though lunch. They didn't stop walking until nearly sunset when Ivan decided to make camp. He efficiently went about preparing the remaining half of the raccoon he had caught in the early hours of the day and dug in. Ivan made no offer to give Alfred any.

Upon realizing that he was going to go meal-less again, Alfred whined and scooted close to Ivan. Ivan was having none of it though – when Alfred got close enough he threw the smaller teen off of him and away from the food.

"You do not beg for food," said Ivan. "If you had wanted something so bad you would have caught it yourself today instead of trying to freeload off of me." Ivan said a few other nasty things under his breath but just loud enough that he knew Alfred caught them all. Again Alfred's stomach gave a loud complaint about being empty. Alfred whimpered but made no move to approach Ivan again, instead curling in on himself, trying to fool his empty belly into feeling full.

X

Alfred awoke the next morning with a kick in the side.

"Come on," said Ivan. "The world waits for no man." Alfred started to grumble but Ivan made to kick him again and that got Alfred up right away.

Then out of the corner of his eye Alfred saw it. A berry bush laden with juicy fruits. Without a second thought Alfred sprinted over to it completely ignoring Ivan's shouts. Alfred recognized these berries – they were ok to eat – so he stood there and ate as much as he could. In only a few minutes Ivan was right behind him. He looked furious but calmed considerably when Alfred thrust a handful of berries in his face. Ivan blinked at the offering and grinned.

"If you are not hunting something that moves don't run off like that," said Ivan. "You are forgiven because you found us breakfast but I will not be so kind next time."

Alfred barely heard the words. He was too busy stuffing his face.

Eventually Ivan tore Alfred away from the bush and they began to walk again.

Alfred made several attempts at catching things but he was too loud and his reflexes too slow to manage it.

For the second day in a row Alfred did not get lunch or dinner. Ivan, on the other hand, caught two deer when Alfred flubbed and scared them in Ivan's direction. He began to make jerky that night as Alfred did his best not to seem too pathetic as he clawed at his arms trying to ignore his hunger.

Because Ivan was much more confident in his jerky making abilities Alfred didn't even get a taste to sample and test for doneness.

In the morning though when the two were packing up Alfred did get a small piece that had fallen and was absolutely covered in ants – he ate it gladly.

X

The days after that blurred together. Alfred became a bit sharper and a bit more agile. Again his body took on a heightened physique in order to aid him in acquiring food.

The minute they hit the prairie, Ivan made Alfred another basket. He had caught Alfred trying to stuff things in the pockets of his pants (which were holding up surprisingly well for being on the rough and tumble kid) and Ivan knew that Alfred's hoarding tendencies would probably help him out again. It wouldn't hurt to cultivate it a little earlier on this time around too.

X

It shouldn't have been possible but they made it to the Pacific Ocean in record time by Ivan's calculations. Once there, they dallied a bit. They enjoyed the sights and worked hard to gather as much as they could from Ivan's list.

Truly the biggest problem this time around was the rain. It just didn't stop. Ivan did his best to keep all of their acquisitions somewhat dry but even an idiot could tell you that he was going to lose some of it to the weather. It made crossing rivers all the more difficult too.

Time and time again Alfred proved to be invaluable to the hunter. He provided supplemental food, was great at finding things, and made for a decent enough companion when they were holed up in a cave waiting out the heavy rains.

When the weather lifted a bit and they managed to get the last of the list, the pair set off for the East Coast again.

X

The return was uneventful. There were one or two problems with snakes but Alfred seemed to be made of hardy stuff and nothing ever came of the bites.

They both delighted in watching the shooting stars while out on the prairies.

X

By the time they neared the Atlantic coastline again Alfred was growing fidgety. It was driving Ivan up a wall. Every time the hunter would try to go off by himself Alfred was always right in his shadow fluttering along his coattails. Ivan knew he would have to pull out all the stops to get away this time.

So he plotted.

His plans came to fruition one sunny afternoon. There was no way Ivan could avoid getting any closer to the town to leave so it was time to make Alfred remember his place here in the wild lands. They had just stopped for lunch and Ivan had made sure that he was in the prime spot to attack Alfred.

Just as the boy bent his head for another bite of meat, Ivan jumped into action.

He flicked some of the hot ashes at Alfred who, having been preoccupied with his bite, didn't see it coming. Alfred cried out and flailed blindly as he tried to get away from the source of the pain. In the action he managed to snag part of Ivan's coat in his hands and drew the cloth to his face to rub at the hurt. In order to keep the element of surprise-going Ivan shirked off his coat, which caused Alfred to fall back against the tree behind him. In just a few short moments Ivan had him thoroughly tied to the tree.

As he paused to catch his breath Ivan couldn't help but notice that his jacket was still in Alfred's hands which were caught and bound underneath the rope. There was no physically possible way he would be able to get the jacket out and keep Alfred subdued. Even with all of the importance of his prized hunter's jacket, it wasn't enough for him to consider freeing Alfred. Even Ivan would be hard pressed to regain the upper hand from the upset boy. The jacket would have to stay.

As Ivan ran though the scenario Alfred had begun to jerk against the ropes. Across his face and the top of his chest small blisters had appeared from the hot ash Ivan had thrown at him. He was crying and the salt in his tears were aggravating the blisters on his face and the thrashing against the rope was taking care of the rest.

He only stopped moving when Ivan drew his sword. Then the movement took on an even more frantic tone.

Cautiously Ivan approached his bound companion. Quick as lightning he slashed at Alfred across the shoulder twice in an "x" pattern. Alfred cried out in agony as the sword tore through his skin. Still not done with his message, Ivan lowered his sword and grabbed Alfred's face so that he was forced to look at Ivan.

"Let this be a reminder to you," said Ivan. "Do not become soft. Do not live with the company of others. Remember your training and you will not hurt."

Betrayed, teary eyes bore into Ivan's cool gaze. When Alfred made to jerk his head away again Ivan let him. Quickly Ivan gathered up all of his supplies and the things he and Alfred had brought back from the Pacific. He left without a further word leaving Alfred and his captured coat tied to the tree.

X

The moment Ivan made it to the town he was ushered onto a ship bound for the continent. As much as he did not want to face courtly life again he must for the sake of his people and his honor. He only hoped the Tsar would be pleased with his findings.

X

**Author's Note:** Well that was pretty twisted up. Ivan's pretty much hit wildchild!AU canon but Alfred's still not quite there yet. It's only natural that he would backslide when out of the influence of his manipulator. After all, people tend to take the path of least resistance so it makes sense that Alfred would try to find an easy source of warmth and food during the winter. Shame about all of Alfred's friends dying though – they probably weren't too bad of folks. One of them could even have been Gilbert maybe (or maybe not). With the duo's such good success at finding rare things I bet Ivan will be back again next season (spoiler: he is).


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Years Pass, the Duo Grow Up**

**Warnings:** See Chapter 1.

X

Ivan was unsurprised when the Tsar cornered him close to the spring thaw. Again Ivan had seen all the pleasure his hunting trip had brought everyone at court. He was the celebrity who could do no wrong. Even the travesty of losing his coat was mitigated in the wake of his prolific spoils. He was exalted for serving not once like every normal man but twice. And his reward for such action? To repeat the challenge again. It was the only natural conclusion of his victory and Ivan would have been shocked if the offer had not come.

Returning to the Safari Zone was of no consequence to Ivan. Each time he visited the Zone it stole his breath away and taught him many new and invaluable things about surviving – in both the Wild and in court. Ivan was by no means a stupid man but he truly needed all the help he could get in staying on top of things. In truth, Ivan welcomed the opportunity to return to the wild lands. Maybe even Alfred made it through another year?

It was this passing thought that drew Ivan's ire the whole journey to the Safari Zone. It shouldn't matter. Alfred shouldn't matter. But it would be nice to go back to a companion that really didn't care what his political affiliations were or what sort of information he knew. Alfred was just Alfred. That was good enough for Ivan.

X

The boat arrived at an odd time. For the past two years, two separate captains had managed to arrive at mid-day. This time the captain had gotten them lost in a storm that nearly drove them in to the rocks too far north from the port. They had to circle around several times before making a clear getaway into the harbor as the winds subsided. It was dusk by the time they made landfall.

The clamoring to get to the inn was very pronounced. For most men, already their first day was wasted – check in was mandatory the moment one arrived and that started the countdown clock on one's hunting tag. But tags didn't go by hours or anything fancy. It didn't matter what time on a day you made landfall – morning or late at night, that was your first day. If Ivan had been on his first trip he would have been furious like many of the others were. But it was his third outing here and the Safari Zone Authorities did nothing but cock an eyebrow at his somewhat familiar face.

Again Ivan made to move out immediately. By the faint lights coming from the town buildings he marched determinedly to the forest in the semi-darkness. As he approached the last building – the makeshift hospital if he recalled correctly – he could swear he smelled pie.

Sure enough as he got closer he could see a pie in the lower back window of the building. Ivan had enjoyed the English treat one or two times during his travels and this one looked mighty fine. Yes, it was a pretty good-looking pie. And then the pie was being snatched by someone? Someone was stealing the pie!

What better way to start out the trip by testing his skills against a thief?

Swiftly Ivan gave chase. He didn't bother hiding his approach and the individual caught on quickly that they were being perused. As they dodged in and out of the underbrush at the edge of the woods Ivan could occasional catch glimpses of the thief. A long trailing coat, dirty blond hair that was just the right length for Ivan to question if the thief was a boy or a girl, too many flashes of exposed skin.

With one final push Ivan managed to tackle the thief who cried out at the blow. The pie went skidding out of his hands – for Ivan could tell now that the person was male – but remained intact. With the man subdued Ivan went to question him. As he spun the other around he was shocked at what he found.

It was Alfred.

The boy went completely slack beneath him and let out a small whimper. But he made no move to explain his actions to Ivan.

Well…this was certainly a step up from last year. Even Ivan could tell that Alfred had been mostly roughing it. But what was with stealing the pie? Pie was for sissy pansies in the civilized world.

There was only one thing to do.

Ivan grabbed the pie and hauled Alfred up. Ivan then propelled him back to the small outbuilding on the edge of town. If Alfred was not going to talk to him then he would get his answers from the person fool enough to leave the pie cooling on the windowsill.

Alfred struggled a bit on the way back to town. He quieted down when he realized that they were not actually going in to the town but just to the hospital building. All of this was a good sign for Ivan.

Due to lack of free hands when he reached the entryway Ivan banged on the door with his foot.

An elderly woman answered the racket.

"Oh!" she said. "You caught him."

"I believe he stole this from you," said Ivan. He made a move to return the pie, taking careful note of how Alfred's eyes tracked the pie's movement and how Alfred began to whine when it was clear that they would not be keeping the pie.

"Release him this instant," the old woman said. "He has done you no harm and that is his pie." Gently she pushed the pie back toward Ivan.

Ivan was stunned. Alfred's pie? There was a story here and he would get to the bottom of it.

"I clearly saw him take it," Ivan said. Alfred squirmed at that but could not break Ivan's grip to get at the pie.

"Yes you did," the old woman said. "He gives me meat and I give him pie. Sometimes I even ask for certain plants and he gets them for me. In exchange I bake him sweet things."

"So you regularly talk to this man?" Ivan asked.

"Heavens no! I've never seen him until today," said the old woman. "One day I left a book of healing plants open on the windowsill and someone brought them to me. I thought it was a passing coincidence – a traveler who knew a little bit of something and was trying to help out this pathetic excuse of a hospital. Every day I would leave open a page and by the next I would have my plant. It's saved a lot of lives actually."

Ivan made to say something but the old woman was on a roll.

"So one day I left a picture of a bird," the old woman continued. "A whole day went by and nothing was there but then the day after that there was the bird – mangled and strangled on the windowsill. Tried it out with some other animals too. Heck I've even gotten parts of deer and bears out of the whole thing. Someone was obviously going to a lot of trouble and it was no one in the town that I could figure so it must have been some poor left behind on the run from the Authority. Whoever it was they were sure wasting a lot of time on little old me so I baked a pie in exchange."

"It didn't take at first. I literally had to place the image of the thing that I wanted under the pie to ensure that the pie would be gone but eventually we worked out a system. Never saw my little helper though until tonight. So let him go and give the young man his pie!"

That story was a lot for Ivan to take in.

It appeared that Alfred had stuck to Ivan's word and lived in the wilds. But he had taken up company with this woman – even if inadvertently out of boredom.

Pushing his inner turmoil aside Ivan slapped on a smile and thanked the woman for her enlightening conversation. He then hastily made excuses and removed himself, Alfred, and the pie from her presence.

When they were safely back in the woods Ivan released Alfred. The other stumbled back a bit but didn't go far. He just kept eyeing the pie. It gave Ivan ample time to study his companion up close. The other had not seemed to have grown much - although to be fair Ivan had grown a little bit and therefore Alfred must have kept pace. He was wearing Ivan's old hunter coat. Ivan barely recognized the garment – tied about Alfred's shoulders like a cape and now a dingy dirt color with the barest hint of the vibrant red it once was. A lone button left on what should have been the lapel gave it all away – it was his family's crest. His hair was wild, matted and full of twigs. But his body was still lean and well defined like how Ivan had left him. It seemed that even living the high life with all of the old lady's sweets had not diminished him – although that remained to be tested.

Ivan debated about what to do with the pie. He didn't want to break tradition and eat a cushy meal for his first night out in the wilds. He didn't want Alfred to eat it either because it was just another unhealthy connection that Ivan needed to break.

In the end they split the pie. Waste not after all.

Alfred all but cried when he was handed his half and dug in with gusto. Ivan ate at a much more sedated pace. It was a darn good pie but there must have been something in it for almost instantly Ivan began to grow tired after only a few bites. Court had taught him much about the fine qualities of drugs and Ivan could tell that this one was harmless for the ingested. Not one to play with fate he gave the rest to Alfred who was already halfway blissed out and ready to sleep. With the final morsel of pie disappearing down his gullet Alfred passed out against Ivan in a deep slumber.

Even with Ivan's few bites it took a few hours for the forced grogginess he was fighting to wear off. Quietly Ivan ensured that Alfred was fully asleep before getting up and making his way back to the outskirts of town. He looked long and hard at the little hospital on the edge of the pseudo-civilization in the Safari Zone. Sure the old woman had thought she had done no harm but the drugged pies were enough to makes Ivan weary of what was really going on.

With the utmost stealth Ivan crept toward the base of the dwelling. Just under the fated windowsill were some dried up plant bits – probably unusable castoffs from the old woman's cures. Carefully Ivan brushed these into a small pile up against the house, took out his flint and retreated as the flames began to lick at the building's wood foundation. The old woman may live if she was lucky, if not then Alfred would have no means of temptation when Ivan left him again.

Being sure to leave no trace Ivan returned to where he and Alfred were camped. He carefully gathered Alfred into his arms and set off into the darkness. By the time Alfred awoke they were nearly to the foothills of the mountains and well on their way to the Pacific Ocean.

X

Ivan could tell the minute Alfred woke up. He had been carrying the other all night so it wasn't hard to notice when the ragdoll in his arms suddenly went ridged. Then Alfred nuzzled into Ivan's chest and continued to doze. Ivan thought about dropping him into the nearest stream but decided against it. He wasn't quite sure why either. That day Alfred slept until the sun had fully risen in the sky before Ivan decided that enough was enough.

By dinnertime it was clear that even eating that old woman's sweets had not done Alfred much harm. He had retained the grace and agility to hunt and track like when Ivan was last in the Safari Zone. As an added bonus Alfred seemed much more knowledgeable of what plants to eat. It pleased Ivan greatly that the duo no longer had to subsist on meat and the few identifiable plants Ivan knew were not poisonous.

The trip truly flew by in a blur. The hardships the pair faced were not so bad. The triumphs they made overshadowed any ill they encountered. Instead Ivan remembered long nights lounging under the stars simply content in each other's company.

But it all had to end sooner or later.

Again Alfred did not get fidgety until they had crossed over the eastern mountains and could begin to faintly smell the salty sea air. It made each moment trying and frustrating for Ivan. He knew that Alfred knew that the end of their time together was coming. It was spoiling what little time they had left. Ivan did his best to sooth the other but even he knew a lost cause when he saw one. It was only a matter of time until Alfred was left behind and Ivan would be back on a boat to the continent.

As they approached the town at midday Ivan knew he had to act now or risk Alfred tailing him all the way into town and potentially being taken in by someone. At the artificial tree line just outside of town Ivan turned and confronted Alfred.

In a flash of movement Ivan had dropped his pack to gain speed, tackled Alfred and carved a very deep "x" into Alfred's calf. The other shrieked in pain and did his best to buck Ivan off of him.

When the deed was done to Ivan's liking he carefully got off of Alfred and towered over his fallen companion. The other just lay there clawing at the soft dirt, hissing and crying and groaning in agony.

Their eyes locked for one brief moment and Ivan spoke.

"Let this be a reminder to you," said Ivan. "Do not become soft. Do not live with the company of others. Remember your training and you will not hurt."

With that Ivan walked away. Alfred tried to crawl after him but the violent tremors running from the gash in his leg made it all impossible. It took a long while before Ivan could no longer hear the other crying out for him to come back.

X

Ivan's father died that winter. In the height of revelry over Ivan's spoils the old man had passed quickly and unexpectedly. Ivan's family was flung into full mourning.

Ivan didn't care all that much. The old man had certainly helped him in a number of ways but any paternal feelings Ivan may have had for the man had long since been buried under the intensity and betrayal of the courtly system.

Aside from the initial advice the man had given him about the Safari Zone, his father had left him one last parting gift. Ivan could tell that the Tsar was on the fence about sending Ivan back to the Safari Zone again this year. Ivan wasn't too sure why the change had taken place – the man but two years ago would have thrown him to the wolves one hundred times over for the chance to gain more wealth and rare material goods – the man a year ago would have praised him and sent him on his way. But his father's dying wish was for his ashes to be sprinkled at the Pacific Coast of the Safari Zone. It was blasphemous to ignore such a request in the Russian Empire. No one but the son could fulfill this task. Ivan was more then happy to again escape the confines of the Russian Empire and its class system.

Before he left Ivan asked the Tsar if there was anything special that he wanted after Ivan had completed the sacred journey for his father. Surely there was no harm in bringing things back from the Pacific after the remains had been scattered. There was no sense in wasting a return trip like that. Eagerly the Tsar agreed. As usual the Tsar's list of wants was long but Ivan knew that he would gather everything required – on the return trip of course.

X

At his stop over in England Ivan acquired a very unique gift for Alfred. He knew that the other should still be alive if not thriving. He couldn't wait to see if his prediction was true.

X

Ivan arrived at midday. The first thing he noticed upon entering the small port town is that a few more buildings had popped up and managed to remain up during the winter since last year. It was only natural really. The popularity of hunting was on the rise (no doubt buoyed by his and other's increasingly good fortunes in the wild lands). It made sense that this boost was somehow reflected in the crude settlements. These improvements did nothing for the fresh-off-the-boat hunters who paraded about in their final hours before facing the wilds or in the world-weary looks of the regular inhabitants.

Ivan felt no pity for them as he made his way out of town. He didn't even spare the brand new hospital any mind either.

Ivan did not trek far that day. He tried to look for signs of Alfred but his winter mourning period had left his skills rusty – not fatally so but certainly not nearly as sharp as they had been on these past few trips.

Even as he traipsed around in circles for miles could Ivan find no hint of Alfred's whereabouts.

Maybe the boy truly had died.

That would be a shame.

Then he felt it.

It was a subtle feeling but a feeling that one does not easily forget when one is in the target zone for a kill. The hair on the back of Ivan's neck stood on end. Carefully Ivan tried to remain cool and address the situation so that he would be at the advantage – and maybe even be able to turn the tables on his attacker.

Ivan wandered along a little farther before he came to a very small stream. It was perfect for the plan he had in mind. With the utmost care he positioned himself at the water's edge so that in the reflection of the water he had a clear view of what was stalking him from behind. As he reached over to cup the water in his hands he stealthily maneuvered both his sword and, failing the option of getting at something that big out quickly, a small hand dagger hidden up his sleeve. Ivan was deadly and prepared – but from the back he looked like a vulnerable target. It was the perfect way to flush out his pursuer.

After a few mock sips at the water his assailant attacked.

Before Ivan could even think to draw his weapons the attacker had tackled Ivan across the small stream. Not one to be on the wrong foot for a long time Ivan managed to pivot and ensure that the full weight of his body would land on the assailant when they hit the ground.

The next thing Ivan knew he had a squirming Alfred underneath him at sword point. Upon recognition Ivan let up his grip a bit. Alfred used the opportunity to lurch forward and give Ivan a large bone-crushing hug. He made happy noises in the back of his throat and would not let Ivan move an inch or use his arms despite the precarious grip on the sword in Ivan's hand.

"I see you made it through another winter," Ivan said. Alfred just shuffled their positions around and snuggled further into Ivan and let out a contented sigh. Together they relaxed there in the semi-darkness of the soon-to-be night. It was not long before Ivan realized that Alfred had fallen asleep on top of him. Unable to truly move, Ivan joined him for the night.

X

The duo was up well before the sunrise. Ivan was please to see that Alfred's internal clock was keeping good time for his survival habits. It truly appeared that Alfred had made no contact with anyone since Ivan left him. It was a wonderful turn of events and made Ivan desire to test out his surprise all the more intense.

On the second day of traveling he could wait no longer. It was lunch and they were eating some squirrels that Alfred had somehow managed to catch. Truly, Ivan would never tire of seeing Alfred scamper up and down trees trying to catch the little buggers. It was almost as novel seeing Alfred attempt to catch prairie dogs using their sophisticated network of tunnels. It also didn't help that Alfred was gradually turning into a man. Sure he still had a long way to go but his augmented size and weight made it increasingly difficult to dance along the small treetop branches without taking a tumble.

Still, the boy was doing a miraculous job at hunting. But Ivan knew he could do better.

"Alfred," said Ivan. The other looked at him sharply. Ivan had always made sure never to use Alfred's name as just a passing fancy. It was reserved only for when Ivan wanted Alfred's attention immediately. The other had been conditioned very well to respond as such. "I have something for you."

Ivan smiled to himself when Alfred couldn't help but creep toward Ivan when he was digging through his satchel. Carefully Ivan pulled out a small wrapped box and handed it to Alfred. With nothing but curiosity in his eyes Alfred opened the box.

Inside the box was simple yet elegant leather strip. Alfred tilted his head in confusion and made to take it out of the box but Ivan beat him to it. He reached around Alfred, grabbed the strip and set about fastening it around Alfred's neck.

Alfred remained calm until Ivan began to do up the buckle on the back. He tried to pull away but it was already too late. The collar was secure and locked tight. No matter how hard Alfred tugged and scratched it would not be moved.

The final nail in the coffin came when Ivan fastened a leash onto the metal loop at the front.

"There," said Ivan. "Don't you look wonderful?"

Alfred made a sound of protest and tugged at the arrangement again.

"I know that you have been eating when you go off by yourself," Ivan said. "This way we can both be together instead of having you run off all the time."

Ivan's day vastly improved after that. Sure it was difficult having to drag Alfred around as he tugged and tugged on the leash and collar but Ivan knew that in the long run it would be for the best. It seemed that for every mile that they went Alfred would catch sight of something that he would try and get to. Sometimes it was clear what the other was trying to pursue – a stream for a cool drink, a berry bush full of juicy treats – yet there were an number of instances where Ivan barely managed to catch out of the corner of his eye what Alfred was attempting to track. It was after every one of these instances that Ivan could sense Alfred's desperation grow. It was nearing nightfall when Ivan finally spotted a worthy test target. The Tsar was very keen on getting some interesting feathers on Ivan's trip this go around. The bird not 200 yards away from them would do nicely.

Without alerting the wildlife Ivan drew in Alfred's leash. When the other was right next to him Ivan whispered, "See the bird in the tree. Get it."

Ivan released the leash from the collar and Alfred was off like a shot. In truth Ivan had never seen such a mad scramble up a tree.

Alfred didn't manage to catch the bird. Instead he sulked at the base of the tree until Ivan marched over, re-attached the leash, and continued to drag Alfred along.

Not 20 minutes later they found another one. Again Ivan carefully unhooked Alfred. Again the bird was not captured but Alfred managed to get a good handful of feathers this time around.

They repeated the patter all throughout the day. Each time Alfred failed he became more and more determined to make the next attempt successful.

Convinced that Alfred had had enough frustration for the day Ivan's next target was a buck sporting an ample amount of velvet on his antlers. At Ivan's call, Alfred strangled the beast before it even had time to retaliate or warn others around it. It was a perfect situation really. Ivan got just what he wanted out of the process.

At the end of the evening Ivan removed the leash and collar. He didn't bring them back out again until Alfred had fully relaxed and returned to his happy-go-lucky self. He repeated the pattern on and off again the whole trip. Each time Alfred became a little more crazed with the collar on trying to catch impossible things for Ivan.

X

By the time Ivan and Alfred were nearing the end of their journey together the pair had become quite the formidable fighting team. Ivan knew that this might be one of his last times coming to the Safari Zone so he worked doubly hard to ensure that Alfred was as rugged as he could possibly get in order to survive without him. It had been a long and arduous process but with the progress made in this year Ivan was confident that the outside world could be consumed in fire and plague but Alfred, in these wild lands he had forced the other to call home, would be just fine.

All that was left was the problem of departure. As they neared town in the early morning Ivan made his move.

"Alfred," said Ivan. "I must leave now."

Alfred turned sharply to regard his companion. Quietly Ivan drew his small dagger and approached Alfred. The other eyed him wearily but did not move. Quick as lightening Ivan slashed Alfred an "x" on his torso. The other flinched but still did not move. The last thing Ivan heard from Alfred was a small whine as Ivan departed, leaving Alfred alone in the underbrush. The other did not follow him.

X

And so another winter passed.

For some reason the Tsar was much more interested in getting Ivan to go back to the Safari Zone. In fact, he even set up a new royal academy to analyze what Ivan was bringing back. From that winter onward Ivan was the Official Royal Hunter for The Academy of Zone Sciences. It was truly the greatest honor to be offered such a post – nay to have such a post created for him as a viable excuse to get him to spend his summers in the Safari Zone. To say Ivan was over the moon was an understatement. It was just so nice to know that he always had some place to go to escape the chaos of this civilization.

X

**Author's Note**: The pieces are in place. Let the games begin. The interlude/prequel chapters are over and now the fun can truly start. At this point the one question you are probably asking yourselves is 'what's up with the pie mini-arc'…or maybe not…either way that's a darn good question because it came out of nowhere for me too. More likely than not the pie was drugged by the old woman because if word got out that she was aiding and abetting a criminal on the run she would be punished. Why not milk the situation for all it was worth – get things out of the system in return for drugged food to try and help the Safari Zone Authority catch the person. And Ivan caring in that weird way of his would see the situation as a threat to eliminate. To protect Alfred of course. (This relationship is just getting more and more into that territory you don't want to ever find yourself in.) Lots of big things coming up! Stay tuned.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: To Hunt The Devil**

**Warnings:** See Chapter 1.

X

Year in and year out Ivan made his trips to the Safari Zone. Slowly overtime the nature of the Safari Zone had begun to change. The town began to build up a little bit – mainly because of the amount of affluent money pouring in from high society trying to find people to track down rarities. A few high luxury resorts even managed to open their doors to the privileged by enticing the wealthy with exotic pleasures. These resorts were always right up against the coastline in the absolutely safest parts of the Zone anyone could find and were practically fortresses in their own right to keep out the Wild.

Ivan grew into a fine man. Alfred was not far behind him – although by this point Alfred was far more comfortable running wild all over the countryside, usually perpetually crouched to attack – or to drop onto all fours for a better kill angle. Every year at the end of their run Ivan would impart Alfred with another "x" somewhere on Alfred as a reminder of how to survive.

With each year that passed the rumors of a great new beast grew. A beast that hunted and killed with no mercy. A beast that mangled and rended things with no rhyme or reason. Some said it was a vengeful spirit. Other said it was just a deranged wild animal. Either way, out of all the pieces of fractured story emerged the tale of a Devil living just outside of the main livable area in the Safari Zone. Some called it a protector of the Wild; most everyone else just called it a monster.

Things had actually gotten to the point where Ivan could just follow the rumors and Alfred would pick up his trail and they would be off together. It became quite a game between the two of them – their very own personal hunt to see who could make contact by "capturing" the other first.

Unfortunately with all of the hype, hotshot hunters came out of the woodworks trying to defend the town and defeat the Devil. Some turned up dead, others returned and refused to hunt ever again. Even fewer still dared spin tales of how the beast now carried their mark.

These latter stories were occasionally true. While Alfred was almost always able to evade capture, in two memorable occasions hunters other then Ivan managed to track him and lay their mark upon his flesh – a Spaniard's crest and a Turkish symbol. Both had bragged until the cows came home. Both met suspicious ends at court during the off seasons leading only further to the rumor that there was a Devil living in the woods and that Devil was cursed.

The only thing Ivan had to be thankful about other than that those two men were dead was that it now gave Alfred a reason to at least attempt to wear pants. Sure they were pretty torn up but Alfred hated to see those foreign marks on his body as much as Ivan did.

Little did Ivan know that the encroaching society would begin to put a cramp in the way his life had been run since he was a young boy on the cusp of his manhood journey. Or maybe he did realize it as he shot a disgusted glare at the largest and most opulent resort palace in the Safari Zone and continued on to begin his yearly opening hunt for the Devil, his Alfred. It mattered little to him what was going on inside the posh building.

X

"Mr. Williams, thank you so much for agreeing to do this interview," said the well-dressed reporter.

"It's my pleasure, sir. I always think that anyone who wants to come out to the Safari Zone just to talk to me deserves my attention," said Mr. Williams.

"And I don't blame them," the reporter chuckled. "Here I thought the Zone was getting more civilized – what with these new tourist resorts popping up – but I can hardly get your average goods here."

"Well, we are a rugged sort out here."

"I suppose that brings me to a great transition point," said the reporter. "What inspired you to become a researcher?"

"You have to understand sir, I am a hunter first and a researcher second. Without the hunter skills I would have died long ago trying to do my job."

"Isn't that the truth. I take it you are aware that every researcher and research expedition has never made it here for as long as you have?"

"I am," said Mr. Williams.

"But our readers want to know what made you want to start? Why go through all the trouble for this godforsaken place when death is always just around the corner?"

"Somebody had to do it."

"Don't be coy Mr. Williams, Matthew – can I call you Matthew? Surely there must be something that inspired some of the most brilliant ecological work the world has ever seen?"

Oh of course there was. But there was a snowball's chance in hell for Matthew to tell the pompous reporter what that was. He had never told anyone his real reason for scouring the Safari Zone. He guarded that secret even more closely then the truth that his last name was not in fact Williams. He was already in this lie deep enough; another half-truth would do no harm.

"Growing up I read all of the usual children's stories about the great hunters in the Safari Zone."

"Yes. Those are standard reading for most little boys. But most little boys do not become world renown like you have."

"When you put it that way…" said Matthew. "I loved all of the little details that the stories told you. It gave me quite the imagination and I loved to pretend I was surviving out in the Wilds. It's how I started trying to paint what I thought the Safari Zone would look like."

"Correct me if I'm wrong," said the reporter. "But in your early career you worked closely with hunters to paint what they have seen."

"Yes. When I studied in the Lowlands many hunters would use the swampy areas as Deep South training for the Safari Zone. I tried to talk to as many of them as possible to help with my artwork and overtime I knew enough tricks of the trade I could fit right in."

"But you still had no ambition to go to the Zone?"

"I knew I couldn't get in," said Matthew. "I'm not a noble or somebody important like that. There's no way any government would have given me a tag. I was content to just talk and learn. I tried to keep track of all of the details the hunters had inadvertently picked up. I mean, the papers are always taking about some hunter or other returning successfully or dying but the details just aren't there like they are when talking to people."

"Did you follow the research expedition news too?"

"I think everybody knew when another group died," said Matthew. "It always seemed to me like the only good information we ever got was from some hunter happening upon it or someone specifically paying a hunter to go figure something out."

"Really?"

"Look in to all the old academic papers and their sources," said Matthew. "It's all hunter journal notes or interviews. The research standards just weren't there. I-I mean, it was all good information but it could have been better if someone who knew exactly what they needed could get the information for themselves."

"So you chose to fill the gap."

"No."

"No?" said the reporter.

"Yeah. My professors all knew what I did in my free time and they referred me back to London. I wound up having tea with some very important academics who weren't actually interested in my art per say but in my knowledge of the Safari Zone. I didn't expect what they were really after. When one of them gave me a tag I passed out right in the middle of the teahouse."

"Were you overjoyed?"

"I was scared stiff. They really had to twist my arm to get me to go. But I went and when I came back with what I hoped was passable they gave me a long term pass and sent me right back."

"So you became the man with the most time lived in the Safari Zone in the whole world," said the reporter.

"Well."

"You know as well as I do that the 'residents' here don't winter in the Safari Zone like you do."

"I guess when you put it like that," said Matthew.

"Can we get any hints as to what you are going to talk about at this years symposium?"

"No. But it might have something to do with the West Coast."

"You've made it to the Pacific?!"

"Several times actually."

"And you never told anyone?"

"Why?" said Matthew. "I was too busy trying to get my research in order. I mean, last year's seminar was all about salmon runs in the Pacific Northwest. Of course I had to visit the Pacific Ocean to help me figure it all out."

"Astounding."

"No really. Most noble Russians have to do it at least once."

"True. Well before we conclude our interview do you have any comments on what you think could be causing the violent sting of deaths every spring? The one's they are attributing to the 'Devil'?"

"It is probably just an animal that is upset with territorial encroachment."

"Are you going to investigate it?" said the reporter.

"Maybe."

"Do you have any closing statements for our readers?"

"Look. I'm not a hero. Don't bill me as one. I'm just a curious person who has somehow managed to not get killed doing what I love to do."

"Thank you for your time."

Matthew sat at the table a long time after the interview. He thought about his life but mostly he thought about his best friend and the whole mess that had turned both their families completely upside down. After Alfred's disappearance, life just hadn't been the same. The moment it became obvious that Alfred probably had been spirited away on a slaver's ship Matthew was ferried off to distant relatives to avoid scandal on his family's name. Yet every day Matthew couldn't help but wonder if his dynamic, adventurous friend was somehow still alive after all these years in the wild lands.

X

Not even 100 yards away another man with a preoccupation with the Devil was storming out of the hotel's main meeting room and heading straight for the smoking lounge for a stiff drink.

"Pardon me for saying this Lord Kirkland, but what's managed to ruffle your feathers this time?" said the bartender. He hadn't even batted an eyelash at the fowl mood Lord Kirkland was in. Lord Kirkland took a deep sign as he straightened out his red hunting jacket and reached for his drink.

"Just the usual stuff. The Safari Zone Council is trying to further open the restrictions on visitors here. Can't they just understand that the Empire created this designation to preserve the last area of wild land left on the planet?" said Lord Kirkland.

"But even you hunt," said the bartender.

"True. But I hunt selectively. It's not like I just take what I feel. I use my head so that future generations can enjoy this unspoiled place. At least the other representatives from the Empire know the importance of this. The rest of the fools from the continent don't seem to care a lick for anything," said Lord Kirkland. "Not two years ago I could literally walk out of the door and shoot a bird or a deer or something. Now you are lucky to accomplish such a feat after a three day's journey into the woods."

"It has been months since any predators have been reported in the area except for that blasted Devil," Lord Kirkland said as he continued to vent his grievances. "At least there's something reminding people of how wild this little port town used to be. I say whatever it is leave it be. Too many people have died or gone mad trying to hunt that creature."

"Don't tell me that you wont go looking for it to include in your annual report to the crown about the state of the Safari Zone," said the bartender.

"When did I ever say that?" said Lord Kirkland. Not wanting to be questioned further about the irksome state of affairs, Lord Kirkland removed himself from the bar and went to get a breath of fresh air. He had some thinking to do if he were able to try and catch a glimpse of the beast.

Lord Kirkland spent the next three months exploring the Atlantic Coast of the Safari Zone and compiling data for the annual report on the environment and general state of the area for the Empire. He kept his eyes open for any signs of the Devil but was forced to quit the journey when his pass was up.

The same could not be said for Matthew.

Matthew had always enjoyed the fall in the Safari Zone. Many of the hunters had gone home for the season so he did not have to worry so much about getting his head blown off by a trigger-happy fool. He spent his days exploring and painting the rugged landscape. He spent his nights in a small cabin that he had managed to built well enough to have it hold together every season despite the heavy snowfall in the winter. It was on the edge of the forest four days walk from the town and it had been Matthew's winter sanctuary. It didn't matter how far he strayed from the cabin when the weather was nice – he found comfort in knowing that when the weather began to turn fowl he could return and live in relative comfort until the snow receded again and the spring began to emerge from hibernation.

It was on one such late fall excursion that Matthew discovered the secret of the Devil.

He had just neared a familiar area for gathering tomatoes when he heard the sound of a crowd jeering in the clearing up ahead. Weary but curious he moved toward the sound. As he inched closer the noise abruptly shifted towards something more akin to yelling. It was the addition of gunshots that stopped him cold.

The Safari Zone had never been the most law-abiding place. While the Authority did a fairly good job at keeping a lid on things in the town, out in the rugged wilderness, anything was game. Matthew very well could have stumbled upon a mock trial or something equally horrific. As quietly as he could Matthew moved to get into a more defensible position. He didn't know what was going on but he couldn't leave either and risk drawing attention to himself. Matthew held his breath as the screaming and gunshots continued.

He waited a long time after the sound quieted down before even thinking about leaving from his spot. Just as he was about to emerge from the underbrush a man shot past him.

The man was fairly nondescript but was clearly a hunter if his red coat was any indication. One sleeve was entirely torn off with the cuff dandling on the man's wrist. He was heavily bleeding and limping and looking behind him with such fear at whatever he was running from, Matthew had no other reaction but to stifle a gasp and recoil. The wounded man didn't get very far before his wild running caused him to trip on a root and fall to the ground. His eyes darted around in fear but completely missed Matthew standing only yards away in the shrubbery.

A branch cracked.

Both Matthew and the fallen man's heads whipped around to where the sound was coming from. A blur shot past Matthew heading straight for the fallen man who let out an inhuman scream before the blur – another man Matthew could now tell – proceeded to rip the flesh off of the other.

Matthew could only watch in horror as the fallen hunter was slowly torn apart by his attacker. When the hunter was little more then a bloody pulp the attacker slowly got off of him. It was then that Matthew got a full look at the assailant. The man was tall but did not draw himself to full height. His pants were in shreds and he wore no shirt. The most prominent thing about him were the scars. Give Matthew one hundred years and he would never forget them. There were "x"s all over his body – the largest one by far ran across his back. It looked somewhat fresh and was clearly horribly infected and quite deep. In short, he was not an individual Matthew was comfortable being around (the earlier murder didn't help things either).

The Wild Man swiped at the blood covering his face and in the process exposed a number of gunshot wounds on his body. It appeared that the attacker could actually the victim who managed to turn the tables brutally. Matthew wasn't sure whether to be more afraid or not at this new revelation.

Then the wind shifted. Matthew's careful hiding spot was undone, the Wild Man looked him right in the eyes and began to growl at him. There wasn't much Matthew could do but refuse to break eye contact. Matthew's body was still partially shrouded by foliage; the Wild Man had no idea he was armed – that could be Matthew's only saving grace.

The other slowly made his way toward Matthew in a slight crouch. It reminded Matthew of the way that cats stalked their prey – tight and ready to spring. The Wild Man only got a few steps before his muscles spasmed and he cried out in pain. The man dropped like a rock and curled up on himself whimpering and shaking.

When asked later Matthew could not explain the reasoning behind his actions. By all rights he should have run and left the other there, probably to die. But there was something fascinating about the Wild Man. Matthew wanted to know how the other had been reduced to a state like this.

Slowly and cautiously Matthew approached the Wild Man. His every move was tense. He fully expected the other to be faking it to prey on his soft side to get him in range to die. But Matthew managed to make it all the way to the Wild Man without a hitch. Carefully he rolled the other over.

The Wild Man was so out of it in agony that he didn't even register Matthew inspecting his wounds. The bullet holes didn't appear to be so bad – two had gone clean through the man and the other had managed to miss his stomach. Truly it was the infected wound on his back and the raging fever that had Matthew most concerned.

Well, the only way to get any answers was to treat the man.

Gently Matthew gathered him up into his arms being extra careful not to aggravate any of the wounds. It was only a few hours walk to his cabin, until then he just hoped that the other held on to life with as much tenacity he had displayed in fighting.

X

It was three days before the Wild Man woke again. Matthew had been tending the small fire in the hearth contemplating what he should eat for dinner when the other had bolted straight upright with an angry snarl – pulled several of his stitches and passed back out again due to the pain. If it weren't for the extra blood on the sheets and his pounding heart Matthew would have sworn it never happened.

Only days after that event the Wild Man's fever got worse. In heated dreams the other thrashed about further aggravating his body. In waking he just stared at Matthew with dead eyes, whimpering with every shift his weakened body made trying to get out of the restraining harnesses Matthew had been forced to fashion to ensure the Wild Man did not further hurt himself while healing.

The fever stretched on for weeks and before Matthew knew it the pair were snowed in. The Safari Zone was officially sporting its winter colors.

Over time the moments of the Wild Man's lucidity became steadier and less crazed. His wounds healed up and with some trepidation Matthew removed him from the restraining harness. Even free the Wild Man was still very weak. The first time he had moved from the bed in months and he collapsed under his own weight. It was the first time that Matthew had seen the other cry – not tears of pain but tears of true regret and sadness. No matter how Matthew tried to help by soothing the man nothing worked.

In the darkest portion of the winter the Wild Man was finally well enough to stand and move about the house with help. It was shaky progress but it made Matthew tremendously happy to have a guest in his house that would listen to him talk as he puttered about cleaning or making candles or painting.

Despite his regaining strength the only thing the Wild Man seemed to want to do was sleep on Matthew's bed or curled up by the fireplace.

On the day of the solstice the Wild Man tried to leave Matthew's cabin. It was too late before Matthew could stop him from breaking the door and running out into the snow. By the time Matthew caught up with the Wild Man's mad dash the other had bagged a winter elk and had already begun to eat a rapidly cooling flank. He looked to be slightly frost bitten too but didn't seem to notice at all. With some minor enticement Matthew managed to get the Wild Man to return to the cabin with his prize in tow.

Now the duo took frequent walks outside – Matthew to paint things and the Wild Man to run about and stretch his legs. It was nice. The Wild Man still wasn't fully better but with each outing he seemed to improve exponentially. Matthew knew it was only a matter of time before the Wild Man attempted to leave for good. He did his absolute best to try and make the days the Wild Man stayed filled with warmth and goodness and any other reprieve from the other's harsh life he could think of.

Their whole dynamic changed just as the first hints of spring were starting to appear near Matthew's cabin. The Wild Man had managed to catch something but Matthew couldn't quite tell because he came back covered in blood looking like the cat got the canary but with nothing to show for it. Sick and tired of the Wild Man making a mess of his place, Matthew drew a bath.

Bathing the Wild Man was the most difficult thing Matthew had ever attempted to do. The minute the Wild Man got near the water he would start to flounder about and try and tug away at Matthew's arms in attempted escape.

But Matthew was having none of it. It didn't matter if Alfred could tear him limb from limb in retaliation – Matthew was no push over.

With a carefully timed maneuver and one final tug the Wild Man was cast into the small tub of warm water.

"No!" the Wild Man screamed. It was garbled and weird but clearly a "no". Matthew could not believe his ears. For some reason the though had never occurred to him that the Wild Man could talk. He never had and with the scars around his neck Matthew had just figured that he couldn't.

He didn't let his surprise shake him for long. The Wild Man was already trying to escape the bath so Matthew jumped right in attempting to get him clean. The more he scrubbed at the Wild Man the more the other verbally protested. They weren't very creative phrases but the Wild Man hit a nearly all of the major languages that Matthew could identify and a few he couldn't too.

By the time the water was a notch below tepid Matthew let the Wild Man break out of the tub. Matthew was rather shocked at what he saw. Beautiful long blond hair with a sinuous yet muscular body that still held a bit of the sun's kiss on it despite the dead of winter. The Wild Man was quite the looker. He reminded him a bit of Alfred.

Now that Matthew knew the Wild Man could talk, Matthew did nothing but pepper him with questions. The other refused to say anything though. Instead he just sulked in the corner of the cabin trying to ignore Matthew.

In retaliation Matthew pulled out all the stops. He cooked what seemed to be the Wild Man's favorite meal (if the rate that it disappeared down his gullet was anything to go by). He even brought out the toys and models that he had whittled he'd seen the Wild Man eyeing in his cabinet and left them in a really obvious spot near the warm fire where the Wild Man liked to rest when not invading Matthew's bed. Matthew even began to paint knowing that the Wild Man only liked to move around a lot when he thought that Matthew was fully preoccupied with a task.

It took three hours of the charade before the Wild Man even moved from the corner. By the time they ate dinner the Wild Man had warmed considerably back up and was happily making odd humming noises as he moved the toys back and forth by the fire.

X

With the coming of the spring thaw the Wild Man had only said a few more words to Matthew but each time it happened made Matthew's week. Their companionship had grown over the winter and Matthew was glad that his decision to pick up a murderer and treat his wounds had been a good one. Yet with the thaw came the reality that Matthew would have to go back to the Empire and give his annual report and to prove that he was still alive to get his special extended pass renewed by the crown. When he could put it off no longer he began to pack up and told the Wild Man what he must do. The Wild Man seemed to purposely ignore the weight of his words so Matthew didn't press the issue.

On the day he set out he left the Wild Man alone in the house. A few hours into the journey he could tell that the other had been following him. By the time he reached the town the familiar presence of the Wild Man watching him had gone. Matthew wished him the best of luck and hoped that the other did not get into any trouble until he came back in the late spring.

He did nothing but think about the Wild Man during his conference.

And on the way back to the Safari Zone.

And as he approached his cabin.

There was no sign of the other man. Matthew couldn't help but find himself disappointed that the other had returned to wherever he came from.

Three days went by and then Matthew found a dead deer piled in front of his front door. Although he never saw the Wild Man he knew that the other was around somewhere. There was no mistaking those puncture wounds formed by nails too long that Matthew had been unable to cut or the brutal way the creature's neck was snapped in half. Even when some of Matthew's odd trinkets began to disappear Matthew could not find fault with the other. He was more then happy to let the Wild Man know that he cared.

X

Ivan was so happy to be back in the Safari Zone. This year was going to be his year. A new direct international rail line had opened up with a brand new type of train that could get him from the Russian Palace to the coast of France in only a week. That meant that he could spend even more time in the Safari Zone then he normally did. It was such a wonderful treat!

Like usual Ivan blazed through town on his way to the woods. He had heard that the winter had been particularly harsh. Knowing the state he had left Alfred in was less then desirable Ivan pushed on to find the other man.

Truly, it had not been Ivan's fault. He had to punish the other for being so … suggestive at times. Alfred was uncultured in the ways of man and had no idea that trying to share a sleeping roll like they used to upon occasion many years ago or squirming around on Ivan's lap was anything but innocent with their developed bodies. In a fit of frustration, built up after so many transgressions on the trip, Ivan had lashed out – much more harshly then he should have.

In truth, he couldn't really remember how deep he had made the cuts that past year. He could, however, remember with every painful detail how intensely Alfred had cried as he walked away. Alfred had not cried that hard in a long time now. Hopefully it was just from the pain of Ivan leaving and not out of the agony left behind by Ivan's yearly mark. At least that is what he told himself every time the sound haunted him.

So the familiar game began of tracking Alfred so they could begin their annual trip.

He searched far and low but the usual places Alfred tended to hide around were vacant. Ivan could see trace elements of habitation but that could just as easily be from some hunter passing though.

Ivan was about to give up for the night when he saw a skull peering at him from high up in the treetops. It was an unusual place for a skull to be. By all rights the wind should have knocked it down. The leaves were too thick on the tree to be able to see what was keeping it in place. It was bugging Ivan. Without thinking much of it Ivan grabbed a rock and lobbed it at the skull. It hit the target with a resounding thunk. A deep snarl ripped though the area.

"Alfred! Get down here!" Ivan said. Quickly the skull disappeared from Ivan's sights. Ivan watched for the subtle movement of the branches and leaves as Alfred made his way down the tree. Ivan was pleased that he only caught a few of them. It seemed that Alfred was still in tiptop shape for being a hunting companion.

Alfred dropped out of the tree with a thud and slowly drew himself up from his landing crouch.

He was entirely naked.

Ivan wanted to murder someone.

Not even giving time for Alfred to come and hug him or show some other display of physical affection Ivan began to dig around in his pack. He seized Alfred, who's curiosity had been piqued by lack of a normal greeting, and proceeded to force him into a spare pare of pants and a shirt. It was a short skirmish and after all the laces were done up tight Alfred had the most put out look Ivan had ever seen the other carry. He clawed at the shirt but each time Ivan slapped his hand away with a harsh word.

Pleased that he had clothed Alfred, Ivan was even more grateful for the subtle chance to explore Alfred's body. It was clear that the other had been tended to while Ivan was away. That partly made Ivan frustrated – Alfred had entrusted himself to someone other then Ivan – that was against the rules. But Ivan could also tell that the last scar he had given Alfred had become infected. If it hadn't been for the mysterious stranger Alfred probably would have died because Ivan could not keep it together.

Not to mention the gunshot wounds. Sure he had seen Alfred's nicks in the past but these were full on shots at close range by Ivan's reckoning. Something had happened to Alfred. Something quite bad. It could not have been the helpful stranger. That poor sod had even managed to get Alfred cleaned up – an impossible feat without some level of cooperation. He even smelled nicer then normal. It had been a long time since Ivan had seen that shade of beautiful blond hair too.

None of that explained the skull though. Partly held in place by Alfred's tangled hair, his companion was wearing the top half of a skull like a small hat. Somehow part of the spinal cord and a few other fleshy bits had managed to remain attached to the skull. It was truly a perverted tiara and train.

Ivan made to remove the offending article and Alfred actually had the audacity to growl at him and move a few steps back. Maybe the skull was from Alfred's friend, dead now. Or maybe the skull was from an enemy. Ivan had no idea but didn't feel like pressing the matter. If Alfred just happened to lose it on there trip then who was Ivan to complain.

With little more fanfare the duo set out on another adventure.

X

The trip was a long but joyous one. The two again fell fast into further deepening their companionship. Somehow despite everything Ivan tried, Alfred managed to keep his skull. Ivan and Alfred had succeeded in gathering many rare things again and Ivan knew the Tsar would be happy with him. Yes, the trip was absolutely luxurious with the dabbling pace Ivan set. They even managed to return well before Ivan knew he had to leave.

Yet no matter how often Ivan told Alfred that he did not have to leave so early, due to their somewhat close proximity to the East Coast, Ivan woke up nearly ever day with Alfred plastered on top of him as if the other would somehow vanish into the night.

With the extra time in the area Ivan and Alfred did a fair bit of exploring up and down the coastline.

When they got further north then Ivan had ever been Alfred disappeared one afternoon.

X

Matthew had been having a wonderful year. His work – both with research and with art – had exploded by leaps and bounds. Watching the Wild Man interact with nature had helped him comprehend many things he had been observing but not truly noticing or understanding. He often thought of his reluctant winter companion but knew that now that the weather was nice, the Wild Man was probably living the high life someplace.

He was shocked, then, to come home and find the Wild Man in his workshop trying to fish the small miniature of a Russian noble from his diorama display. The other was so intent on his prize he had not noticed Matthew.

The whole sight was rather adorable. The skull perched on the man's head was a bit of a turnoff but at least someone had managed to get the other into a pair of somewhat battered pants. And what looked like a collar.

Then the Wild Man caught Matthew's reflection in the glass display case. He quickly jerked his hand out of the case but caught his inner forearm on the rather sharp edge of the glass. Upon seeing the blood the Wild Man staggered back and tripped into Matthew's collection of partially painted axes and saw blades.

One minute everything had been lovely and the next he had a pile of bloody Wild Man in his workshop. Carefully Matthew helped the Wild Man up and together they made it to the nearest first aid kit.

Thirty-seven stitches and half a bottle of antiseptic later everything was back to normal. Secretly Matthew was so glad that the Wild Man remembered enough from the winter to know that stitches were helpful for healing and although the antiseptic hurt at the time, infections hurt worse. As Matthew patched up one last spot on the Wild Man's shoulder he fingered the collar.

"Do you belong to someone?" said Matthew. "That's illegal you know."

The Wild Man's head turned to regard him. This caused Matthew to see the well-worn etching of a name stamped into the battered leather.

"Alfred?" The Wild Man brightened exponentially and made contented sounds.

"Pleasure to officially meet you Alfred." Glad that he now had a name to call the Wild Man by, Matthew began putting the first aid supplies back into the box. He turned away from Alfred and began stacking the box and bandages into a nearby storage trunk. By the time he turned back, Alfred had disappeared. Matthew searched the whole house but there was no Alfred to be found.

Three days went by before Matthew noticed that the Russian figurine was missing from his display case.

X

Ivan was beyond upset with Alfred. The other had vanished for 12 hours and come back all bandaged up. In his anger, Ivan had ripped off every single bandage and removed all the stitches. Alfred was not supposed to get help like this. Alfred could do just fine on his own. With each pull of a stitch Alfred whined and cried and struggled to get out from under the Russian's weight (for the only way Ivan could truly subdue the other now was to sit on him). Once he had let the other up Alfred would not get closer to him for the rest of the day.

By nightfall Ivan was feeling like a right jerk. He made sure to cook dinner just the way Alfred liked it and attempted his peace offering. It worked. Alfred snuggled up next to him that night and would not let Ivan go well into the rest of the next day.

In the afternoon Alfred did something he had never done before. He gave Ivan a small toy – a little figurine that looked strikingly like him. It was very well crafted. Acquiring such a thing must have been how Alfred had gotten hurt. He must've gone to the mystery person to get patched up before returning.

In gratitude Ivan let Alfred pick where they were going to journey to next. He wanted to know all of Alfred's secret spots. Maybe if he was lucky they would stumble upon the mystery person too.

Alfred did not head North like Ivan had anticipated. Instead he took them through some of the most dense forests Ivan had encountered on the East Coast and dumped them very close to the main port town in an obscenely short amount of time. Alfred drug him around beautifully clearings and breathtaking vistas and interesting caves. They saw wildlife Ivan had never seen before. It wasn't long before Ivan was so turned around that he had only a vague idea of where he was on the map – they were heading back North if the weather was any indication.

They were right about where Alfred had managed to slip away from him a few weeks ago when they were ambushed.

It was not an unusual occurrence in the Safari Zone. People were always looking to make a quick buck and the quickest way was to rob a hunter high off success and tired from their long journey. Ivan and Alfred would have been just fine if the numbers had been a little more in their favor. But 20 against two were not good odds.

Alfred was the first to attack.

Ivan had blinked and Alfred had killed two men already. The others began howling about how they found the Devil and turned their full attention on Alfred. This gave Ivan ample opportunity to hack away at the men who were not paying attention to him anymore. He heard Alfred cry out a number of times and by the time there were only 4 men left Alfred looked more exhausted and deranged then Ivan had ever seen him. Ivan managed to shoot another man dead but the pair of them had a lot of trouble with the last three.

It was Alfred who killed the last man. He took a small dagger to the chest but strangled the other into submission anyway.

When the fight was over and done with Ivan made sure to behead every one of their attackers – you just never knew when someone was truly dead until they were missing vital organs. Alfred had dazedly watched Ivan during the process and when Ivan was about halfway though Alfred made to stand up. He swayed a little bit and slowly began to walk away from the mess of bodies. At that point Ivan didn't even know if Alfred was aware of what he was doing. Quickly Ivan ensured all the others were dead, picked up both his and Alfred's packs and began to follow his heavily bleeding companion.

Alfred collapsed at the edge of a clearing with a small log cabin in it. From the short distance away that Ivan was he could see Alfred trying to claw his way there when his legs gave out. Ivan too was exhausted from having to fight his tired arms to drag the two large parcels to this area. Still, he was lucky that his coat and pants were reinforced enough to deflect poor blows and smaller knives. Sure he had some nicks and cuts and a number of bruises but nothing compared to Alfred. If Ivan had to guess the cabin housed the man that had been doctoring Alfred up. If that was the case then Alfred would probably make it though the night. Because they had been gone for so long the only medical supplies left that Ivan had was a small alcohol cube that certainly wouldn't do Alfred any good.

Ivan carefully stowed the packs in some shrubs at the edge of the clearing and cradled Alfred in his arms. He quietly walked to the cabin, glad to see faint lights on inside and the shadow of a person dance across the windows every so often. Gently Ivan set Alfred down at the door. He halfway knocked in a way that he thought Alfred might if Alfred actually knocked on doors and then darted around the corner of the house, sword at the ready. If this was not Alfred's special medicine place then Ivan would kill the owner and raid the cabin himself for supplies.

The door opened and Alfred's slumped form flopped inside with nothing to brace it up.

"Alfred!" the man at the door cried. From his vantage point Ivan could see Alfred being dragged into the house. Against his better judgment Ivan began to peak in windows after 10 minutes or so. Finally he came across the image of a man that looked strikingly like Alfred if he allowed Alfred to keep his hair that long on a regular basis and if Alfred had regular access to baths. Still, where Alfred's eyes were the blue of the sky on the great prairie, this man's were more purple-y and he wore glasses too. Already this mystery man had Alfred stripped and cleaned off. He was in the process of stitching a long gash Alfred had gotten halfway though the fight.

Content that the situation was under control, Ivan shuffled back to where the packs were stowed and fell into a deep sleep.

X

Ivan hung around the house for a long while after that. It was hard to check in on Alfred because the other – Matthew he'd heard the other man saying when he was scolding himself for being glad to see Alfred again even though the other was hurt – puttered about a lot. Ivan wasn't sure how well Matthew was with surroundings so he did his best to keep his distance. It was five days before Alfred made an appearance again. It was a particularly nice day and Matthew had pulled out a small portable chair. Alfred looked pretty catatonic still but at least his eyes were open and his head was discretely following the flight path of the butterflies in the clearing.

Then the wind shifted and Alfred locked eyes with Ivan. Alfred tried to stand and make his way toward Ivan but Matthew caught him and stilled him. Matthew's actions only caused Alfred to freak out more. Now he was trying to get away from Matthew. It made Ivan happy inside to know that if Alfred were to have his way he would not voluntarily be with Matthew. That Alfred still had Ivan's words deep within his heart. Ivan slipped away as blood began to blossom along Alfred's bandages and Matthew's frantic pleading became louder and louder.

From then on Ivan had to be much more careful to avoid Matthew. The other would frequently just stand on the threshold, eyes sweeping back and forth across the meadow and as far into the forest that he could penetrate.

Ivan didn't see Alfred again until he had to leave to head back to the continent. Alfred still hadn't healed up all the way but the other had managed to get out the door and charge into the underbrush where Ivan had squirreled himself away these past few weeks. Ivan could tell that Alfred shouldn't be moving about like he was already (or at least trying to do). The minute Alfred got within striking distance Ivan again decorated Alfred's body with a reminder "x" and propelled Alfred right back to Matthew's cabin.

"I will be back in the spring Alfred," said Ivan. "You had better still be alive then. Heal and then leave this place." Alfred clung to the bottom of Ivan's jacket and cried but it didn't stop Ivan from pulling away. Just as Ivan plunged into the thick underbrush he could hear Matthew's shouting.

X

**Author's Notes:** I hope everyone is glad to see Matthew back. And with Arthur's appearance as well our cast of "canon AU" characters is finally complete. There was an awful lot packed into this chapter in terms of back story and world building so you might need to read it twice because fight scenes can be really distracting sometimes. It's quite the trail of death our dynamic duo have left behind them. As an author, I also feel that I have fulfilled the standard requirement for a sick fic with part of this chapter too. From this point on the storylines will continue to merge together until we hit the dramatic finale. Also, porn to come soon. (You've all been so patient waiting for it after all.)


End file.
